The Lost Child
by Just-Writing-Fanfics
Summary: After Alfred is named the Boy Who Lived, his older brother, Harry is cast aside. Harbouring a powerful gift, What will happen when he arrives at Hogwarts? Powerful, intelligent Harry, Grey Dumbledore, wrong BWL.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:I do not own Harry Potter. Harry potter belongs to the brilliant J K Rowling. All characters are hers unless I add some of my own (unlikely).

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Chapter 1:the beginning

All was silent in Godric's Hollow. The streets of the village were covered in snow as white as the icing on a cake, and little glimpses of light hinted at the time of year. Samhain, the time when the spirits of the dead walked the earth once more, yet not a soul was in sight as the hooded figure observed the Potters' cottage, drunk on the ectasy of victory. Grinning evilly he approached the cottage, now visible to him thanks to their 'loyal' friend Wormtail. pausing for a moment to observe the parents, as they used their wands to blow bubbles for the amusement of- The crimson eyes under the hood widened before narrowing again, a smirk spreading across his chalk white face as he watched the child destined to destroy him. It was almost pitiful, but Lord Voldemort could take no chances. If this boy could succeed where Albus Dumbledore himself could not, he must stop him or victory would always elude him.

Focusing his hatred, he blasted the wooden door off its hinges, not bothering to take note of the fact that it hit James Potter with the force of a car, sending him flying backwards to land with a sickening crunch. With barely a second glance, he shot another curse at the mudblood who screamed with horror as she gazed upon her unconscious husband, sending her flying over the banister until her lifeless form lay sprawled across the floor below. 'Pathetic,' he thought to himself. 'Not even armed.' If she was still alive, he'd leave the filthy mudblood for Snape, if he wanted her so much. Lord Voldemort did reward his servants after all, though how his best spy could fall for a creature less worthy than a worm he could not understand.

Climbing the steps, he threw open the bedroom door with an audible boom, hesitating for a split second at the sight of the cot...and the child guarding it. Despite being but 3 years old, the Potter boy's piercing emerald green gaze send an unwilling shiver down his spine. 'A brother? Snape did not mention the existence of two children. No matter, the older one was a half-blood, he may live.'

'Move out of the way, child. This does not concern you,' he told the older boy in his high, cold voice, the voice that made giants tremble and his subjects prostate themselves. The voice that made fires falter and water freeze, yet this boy was unaffected by it.

'No. You won't hurt my brother!' the stupid boy shouted, raising his hands, apparently unafraid of the crimson eyes that burned with dark fire as they glared at him in visible disbelief.

'You mean to fight me,boy?' The Dark Lord asked incredulously, laughing in derision, his icy laughter causing the lights to flicker in fear. 'Either this boy is braver than I believed, or he is a fool. No matter, it's time to teach him the lesson his parents could not.' Before the child could reply, the most powerful dark wizard of all time flicked his wandless hand, causing the surprised boy to be sent flying into the far wall, slumping to the ground in a crumpled heap and leaving the wall with an imprint of his form embedded in it.

Turning back to his target, he flicked his wrist once more, lifting the screeching brat to his level. Pressing his wand to the head of the crying toddler, he took a moment to observe the baby that was meant to be his greatest foe. Smiling cruelly, he whispered the words that he knew would end the war, unaware of the light glowing from the other boy's body. As he looked on with shocked surprise, a wall of pure golden light formed between his wand and the baby, the force of it knocking him off-balance. As he watched with growing comprehension, he could only stare as his killing curse impacted with the shield, which responded like an elastic band, catching the spell before flinging it back at him.

As his body dissolved, the malevolent spirit of Lord Voldemort was blasted howling from his body as it turned to dust, the resulting explosion sending shockwaves forth so powerful that the very roof of the bedroom cracked and collapsed, falling in a thick shower of dust and plaster.

When the parents awoke and managed to blast a hole through the debris to their children. they found the unconscious forms of their children, the younger possessing a bloody forehead. When they wiped the blood away, they could see a strange crimson scar, shaped like a lightning bolt. When Dumbledore arrived, the old man looked at the scar and performed a scan on the boy, finding residual magic surrounding him. Lifting the boy into the air, he spoke to the two parents, paying only the slightest attention to the still unconscious older boy in his mother's arms and the small and practically unnoticeable line shaped scar on his forehead, which began to fade and become practically invisible against his pale skin.

'Lily, James. I give you the Boy who lived'. As Lily and James watched in growing wonder and confusion, Dumbledore beckoned them to follow, leading them down for a most informative discussion.

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Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I haven't got a set date for the next chapter but it probably won't be until next week, as I'm out this weekend.

until next time!


	2. Chapter 2:hidden powers,shopping trouble

**Hi again guys! Sorry about the long wait, been very busy. In future, if i'm taking to long send me a PM with *poke* in. That'll get my attention.**

**I've also got a question at the end for you but i'll talk more at the end.**

**Now without further delay, enjoy the chapter! :)**

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Chapter 2: hidden powers

Childish laughter drifted through Potter manor. Today was the 31st of July, the birth of Albert Potter. Said child was sitting in the Potter's living room, laughing at his godparents' jesting. Meanwhile his parents stood in the kitchen, smiling at the sound that their wonderful, gifted child was making. Lily stood making her special boy's cake, while James was wrapping the last of his presents. The two shared a quick glance, which confirmed to the other that this would be the child's best so far.

Meanwhile, in a small, forgettable room in the vast manor, a 13 year old was sitting on his bed, listening to the sound of his younger brother's laughter with a strange detachment. What few people knew, was that today was his birthday too. Still, to him it was nothing new. It isn't like it's the first time, the child thought as he summoned his wand to his hand, not bothering to reach for it. Stretching, he stood to draw his curtains, the light finally revealing the child's appearance. Raven black hair was styled in a sticking-up fashion, unlike the traditional messy Potter hair. Quite tall for his age, he was also quite muscular, his body showing the beginning of muscle development. However, the most remarkable part of his personality were his eyes. Impossibly green, they were his only form of expression, burning like fire at the continuation of his brother's laughing. He wrenched his mind from thinking about the sound, instead looking down at his hand. As he gazed at his hand, he remembered how he discovered his powers like it was yesterday.

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_A young, painfully thin child stood in the kitchen, looking about for something to eat. Spotting a loaf of bread on a kitchen shelf, he jumps for it, but his 8 year old arms are too short. Falling to his knees he clutches his stomach, sobbing at the painful hunger clawing at his chest. Suddenly, he notices something, his hand is glowing! Raising his head, he watches in wonder as the bread floats towards him. Without a second thought he tears into it, finishing the entire loaf in a few seconds. Reaching out with his now pale hand, he wills the crumbs to disappear, gazing in delight as they disappear without a sign, without even a glow. For the first time in his life, Harry Potter truly smiled._

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He still remembered that night, the night where his whole life changed for ever. Lifting his head he walked out of the room, heading downstairs. On his way to the kitchen, he glanced at his brother, remembering why he hated him. Short and chubby, with eyes so weak he had to wear glasses. That was just his appearance. He was arrogant, spoilt, selfish, greedy, cowardly and lazy. Quickly turning away, he continued into the kitchen, completely ignoring his parents. Grabbing a few slices of toast, he quickly ate them, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being observed. Finishing his toast he left the room, heading back upstairs. It was lucky he did, as at that moment his second most hated family(with two exceptions) flooed in. The Weasels-sorry,_Weasleys_, he thought angrily to himself, paying no attention to them as they began greeting Albert.

As he sat in the Potter library, Harry heart the shouting and cheering from below, and realised he couldn't concentrate. Angrily slamming his book shut, he walked downstairs, completely ignoring his 'family' and their guests as he walked over to the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he threw it into the fire with a cry of "Diagon Alley." As he went, Lily stood watching him, her expression unreadable.

Stepping out of the fireplace in the leaky cauldron, he walked out into the bright sunlight after waving hello to Tom. Taking out his list of things he needed, he spared it a glance before shoving it back into his pocket. Walking into Gringotts, he bowed to the Goblin at the desk, who was impressed by his respect and was actually quite talkative. The Goblin, who was called 'Griphook' led him to his vault, where a few galleons and a small amount of sickles lay.

After promising the friendly Goblin he'd be back soon, he left the bank to head to each of the shops he needed to visit. A few hours later, as he wearily collapsed into a seat at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, he took notice of the small crowd gathering around Ollivander's Wand Shop. "What's going on?" he asked an excited young witch who was bouncing on her feet.

"Merlin's beard! It's Albert Potter," one crowd member exclaimed before the witch replied. Casting a low level disillusionment charm on himself, he pushed through carefully, to the sight of his smiling 'parents' and his pouting, arrogant 'brother'. Shaking his head, he walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. Has the world gone mad? he thought to himself as he entered. A chubby, glasses-wearing child who wets himself at the sight of a snake, is being treated like a celebrity? Sighing to himself, he realised he'd better get back to the manor before his family or he'd probably throw up at his parents spoiling the brat.

'A few more days', he thought as he arrived at his house. 'Just 4 more days and I'll be on the Hogwarts Express back to Hogwarts'. As he entered the room, he realised something that he'd forgotten about September the 1st; his brother would be going too. Suppressing a sigh, he climbed into his bed, a scowl once again covering his face.

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**And that's it! Now as I was saying at the beginning of the chapter, I have a request for you concerning this story.**

**At the moment, i'm on the fence about Dumbledore. Should I make him pro-Harry, or manipulative Dumbledore. Since I can't decide myself, i've left the decision to you guys. On my profile there's a poll titled 'should i make Dumbledore good or evil?' Please click on one of the options. Good for pro-Harry, and evil for manipulative Dumbledore. I'm keeping the poll open until December the 5th, so there's no need to rush.**

**Thanks for reading guys, and please do vote.**

**And that's all I have to say. Please review and consider following if you enjoyed.**

**Cheerio!**

**UPDATE:Hi guys! First of all, I'm so sorry for how long this is going to take :(.**

**Today I just thought; "what house is Harry going to be in?"**

**Now I've had to make a second post, which is going to be "which house should Harry be in?"**

**I'm so sorry for the wait but please do vote and I'll make sure that I'll update in the Christmas holidays.**

**Speaking of which, you voted for good Dumbledore, so that's what you'll get.**

**Bye for now.**


	3. Chapter 3: a mystery to solve

**Hey guys! I'm SO sorry for the delay! I know i promised, but i got caught up in decorations, PS4 and going out. I'll try and upload at least 1 more chapter this week.**

**Anyhow, have a great Christmas! I thought that I might as well submit this today since I'm behind on chapters and it serves as a Christmas to all you great people!**

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Chapter 3: Memories

It was 7 am at the Potter mansion, and already the sound of preparation could be heard. In the kitchen a yawning 11 year old could be seen eating, while across the house his parents were running to and fro, packing for their child's first year. Harry stood watching for a moment, his disillusionment charm rendering him invisible to their eyes. For a split second, a tear glistened in his eye for their complete disregard of his absence. Swiftly turning, he stepped out of the house, upon which his disillusionment charm was stripped away. As he closed the door, he once again failed to notice the green eyes so like his own staring at him from the kitchen. Breathing out suddenly in the chilly September air, he focused his mind on how he was going to get to the station. 'I can't apparate since I'm underage, I can't bring an owl onto a bus - glancing at his moody owl Hedwig as it tried to sleep -, and I still can't use a wand'. As he placed the wand back in his pocket, another flashback sprung into his mind.

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_The 11 year old Harry stood in Ollivander's wand shop, subconsciously wringing his hands. As a haggard and drawn but somehow overjoyed Ollivander came back, holding yet another box in his hands, the young Potter couldn't help but sigh._

_"Mr Ollivander, we've been at this for nearly an hour now and it's quite obvious you don't have my wand," Harry told the man, his voice potraying confidence that his body language did not emit._

_"Nonsense my boy, you were able to enter so there must be one in here for you," the aged wizard replied. Before he could ask what that meant Ollivander held out the box's wand, which upon seeing Harry could not help but gasp at. This wand differed greatly from the other. Being about 7 or 8 inches in length, it clearly fit comfortably into Ollivander's hand. Being a brown-reddish colour, it spoke of both elegance and usefulness. More startling of all, though, was the gemstone at the bottom. Coloured a rich dark blue, the gem was about the size of his thumbnail. As he took it into his hand, warmth and power seemed to flow into his hand, and from the wand's tip gold sparkles of power sprang into the air, and powerful gusts of air surrounded Harry, causing his hair to flutter uncontrollably and several objects to rise into the air, before lowering to the ground slowly as the wind ended. Clapping in delight, Ollivander took the wand and carefully placed it back into its box. "7 1/2 inches, redwood, dragon's scale. Powerful, loyal, and adept at both varied spells," the aged wandmaker told the stunned child. "The scale was freely given thankfully, otherwise its magic would have been lost. I'm afraid I know little about these kind of cores, since they're so rare. However there's an ancient story about the one whose wand is that of a dragon core. It's said that that dragon core wands are unbreakable, and when combined with its rightful owner the pair are formidable." Ollivander smiled slightly, shaking his head. "I myself do not believe in such fictitious stories. However I cannot claim complete knowledge over wands." At this, Harry looked up, surprised._

"_But you're a wandmaker. Aren't you supposed to know everything about wands?" Harry asked. In response, Ollivander smiled gently. _

"_Magic is an incredible force. It is far older than humans, and its potential is limitless. With it, we can create rivers, learn to fly, or even heal grievous injuries. We know so much about it, yet so much is still unknown. Wizards and witches are never done learning, even if they believe differently. Anyone who claims to know all that there is to know is either ignorant or a fool. Anyway, that'll be 7 galleons."_

_As he stepped out of the shop, Harry was lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, before he could react a agonising pain erupted from Harry's scar, bringing him to his knees. Half-blind, Harry stumbled into one of the Alley's crowds. Taking a deep breath and crossing his fingers while simultaneously trying to bear the excruciating pain, he concentrated on the name the Leaky Cauldron and he teleported_***** _to the bar. Waving goodbye to Tom the barkeeper, he flooed back to the manor._

**[SPACE]**

Bringing his mind back to the present, he hastily placed his wand back into his pocket. 'I've no idea what that pain was, he thought. But i'll find out some day'. As he teleported to Kings Cross station, he knew that this year wouldn't be as quiet or as peaceful as his other years.

And he'd be ready for it.

***Teleporting is a natural gift of Harry's; it's like apparating but it can pass through wards. At the moment, he can only teleport short distances.**

**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are enjoying the direction that I am taking my story in. Please review and have a merry Christmas and a wonderful new year. :) :D**


	4. Chapter 4:oh, joyful train journeys

**Hi guys! Welcome to chapter 4 of The Lost Child! I'm really sorry for the amount of time it took to upload this! Life has been pretty hectic for me at the moment.**

** This story involves the station, the train journey, the introduction of Harry's friends and a happy brotherly chat. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K Rowling save for those I add in. **

At 7:30 am, it was unsurprising that King's Cross station was packed with people. Which was lucky, since Harry didn't want to draw attention. As he pushed his trolley through the crowded station. As he pushed his trolley towards platform 3, he reinforced his disillusionment charm, just in case a witch or wizard saw through it. As he reached the column between 9 and 10, he had to jump out of the way as a ginger haired boy and black haired boy ran through the spot where he'd just been. As he climbed to his feet, a devilish thought came to mind. Concentrating, he imagined the laces of the boys' shoes tying together. As he began walking again, he hid his smirk with difficulty, as the two boys buckled and fell in a heap. Using the distraction this created, Harry slipped through an elderly couple muttering about, 'useless fools,' and passed through the portal.

Stepping onto the sun-swept platform, he took a moment to listen to the familiar chatter of excited students both new and old. As he pushed his trolley towards the train he passed a round-faced first year who was saying to a bizarrely dressed elderly lady- his grandmother, apparently- "Gran, I've lost my toad again." The woman, who sounded like she'd heard this many times, simply replied with, "oh, Neville." Realising that he'd have to remove his charm before boarding, he waited until a group of chattering students surrounded him before he undid it. Discreetly passing through the large crowd, he began lifting his trunk onto the train.

"Need some help with that?" A pair of voices asked from behind him. Turning around, he took in the sight of two of the redheads from before.  
"Sorry." The one on the left said.

"Thought you were-" the one on the right continued.

"Someone else," They finished in unison. Rolling his eyes at their idiocy the elder Potter boarded the train, ignoring the shocked faces of the twins who were staring after him. Boarding the train, Harry found the nearest empty compartment before sitting down, casually chucking his trunk onto the seat next to him. Sighing with relief, he waited for the students outside the compartment to pass before he began. Pulling out his wand, he placed a locking charm on the door. Pulling out 'The History Of Magic,' he began to read, starting from the legends of Merlin, Morgana and King Arthur.

He knew not how long he sat there, seconds, minutes, hours, but he was brought back to the present by the sound of the compartment door opening. Quickly raising his wand, he immediately lowered it at the sight of his friends, who sat down in the compartment. In front of him was Alex, a blond haired boy who was always smiling, no matter the scenario. Next to him was Amy, a pretty brunette who was currently sitting a little too close to Alex to be completely innocent. Across from her and on Harry's left sat Tom, a black haired kid who was twirling his wand between his fingers. Finally, on Harry's right sat Samantha, a bookish, glasses-wearing girl with dark blond hair who was currently absorbed in her spell books.

Before any of them could start talking the compartment door opened again, and the individuals standing there were a lot less welcome. Alfred and Ron looked in on them, looking a little too haughty for Harry's taste.

'Hey Alfred. Recovered from your fall yet?' Harry asked, smiling as his friends, who must have seen themselves, began laughing. Narrowing his eyes, the youngest Potter moved into the compartment a little more, his hand twitching by his wand holster.

'If you try and pull your wand on me, I'll make sure you won't be able to use it for the rest of the day,' he warned the arrogant kid. Sneering, the boy made the mistake of disregarding Harry's warning. Before he could point it fully at him, Harry moved. Time slowed as he jumped to his feet. Twisting the obese Potter's wrist-forcing him to drop the wand into his hand-he then finished by kicking Alfred's left leg out from under him, knocking him to the ground with a cry of pain. pointing his wand at the fallen child, time seemed to return to normal.

'Get. Out. Now,' he told the boy, who was currently clutching his bruised wrist in agony. Struggling to his feet, Alfred backed out of the compartment.

'You son of a-' Ron roared, swinging his fist at Harry's face. Grabbing the fist, he used his other hand to grab the buffoon's upper arm, pulling him forward before slamming his palm into the boy's nose. Pushing the sobbing, bleeding ginger out of the compartment, he slammed the door so hard the glass shook in its frame. Breathing out with relief, he turned to see 3 faces staring at him.

'What?' Harry asked innocently.

'Where'd you learn to do that?' Tom asked, peering at him with an unreadable expression.

'Do what?' Harry replied, smiling as he sat next to Samantha, who still had not looked up from her DADA book. 'Sam? Earth to Sammm...' Harry queried, waving his hand in front of her face.

'Hmm, what?' She replied, quickly closing her spell book. Before he could ask, they were interrupted yet _again._

'Has anyone here seen a toad?' A bushy haired first year asked, gazing at each of them in turn. Turning to look at her, Harry gave her his most unwelcoming look.

'It's rude to walk in without knocking, or didn't your parents teach you that?' Not in the mood to listen to a lecture, he used his wand to push them out of the compartment, slam the door shut, and lock it.

A awkward silence ensued, with each of his friends looking at him with either concern or anxiety in their gazes. What he failed to notice, was that one was slightly smiling, as though something had pleased him...

'Merlin, Harry! You need to calm down!' Amy scolded him reluctantly, when it became apparent that no one was going to talk.'

'I am calm,' Harry replied, smiling cheerfully. Sighing, Amy turned away rolling her eyes, realising that it was pointless to try and reprimand him when he was like this.

'You can't just go around tossing people-' thankfully, they were interrupted at this point by the conductor, who announced that they would soon be arriving at Hogwarts.

**What did you guys think? Sorry if you're disappointed by the lack of talking or cheerful stuff, I'm not very good at writing relationships.**

**If there's anything you guys want to see in the next chapter, let me know and I'll do my best to do it.**

**Till next time. :)**


	5. Chapter 5:feasts and dreams

**I'm back again! Thank you all for the reviews and welcome to those who chose to follow this story.**

**Now that it's the Easter holidays, I'll try and write an extra long chapter(this one) with the time I have.**

**I also made a few changes to chapter 4, adding more dialogue and a hint for what will happen later in the story.**

**One final note;now that Harry's arrived at Hogwarts, I'll be able to make the chapters more exciting.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5;frightful feasts and eerie dreams

Eventually, the train stopped at the station. As he stepped out into the bitterly cold air, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. After the 'incident' with the ginger fool and Alfred, the atmosphere in the compartment had been tense, to say the least. As he pushed through the busy station, he was bombarded with the shrieking of students and pets alike. As he walked, he passed the huge bulk that was Hagrid, who was currently bellowing ""Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Reaching the carriages, he quickly climbed into one, pulling his trunk in after him. Breathing out with relief, he leaned his head back against the carriage. He understood his friends meant well, but they didn't know what it was like, living with someone who believed that the sun shone out of his-

'Well, what's this?' a voice interrupted his musings. Sighing, he slowly opened his eyes. I swear, if I'm interrupted _one more time_ whichever poor kid does it, is going to regret it for a long, long time. Turning his head to the side he took in the sight before him and smiled, struggling to hold in the laughter.

It was a sixth year. The boy had the ginger hair of a Weasley, and a prefect badge gleamed on his pristine uniform. The boy had a arrogant expression on his face, as though he believed that Harry should look up to him as his superior and therefore should obey him. Blatantly ignoring the pompous fool, he returned to his comfortable position and closed his eyes.

'How dare you ignore me! Do you know who I am?!' the boy yelled, the anger he was obviously feeling clearly visible in his voice. Sighing, Harry turned his head to acknowledge the boy.

'Not a clue. You look like a-what are they called?-wearley?' Smiling pleasantly, he turned away. 'Now if I were you I would find another carriage before we leave. So, goodbye.' As the boy opened his mouth to reply, the carriages began to slowly move forwards, forcing the boy to move or take the long trek up to the castle on foot. Closing his eyes, he sensed his friends entering the compartment, as though he knew who they were without seeing them. This puzzled him, nothing like this had happened before. As quick as it arrived, the sense vanished, and so he dismissed it as a one-off.

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The ride to the castle seemed to pass slowly, with his friends passing the time by idly chatting. He didn't hear them though, as he was too busy meditating. Unusual though it sounds for a thirteen year old to meditate, he found that it helped to pass the time and allowed him to unravel the truth about his powers. Though he would never admit it, his raw power unnerved him, to the point where he questioned whether he could control it. He knew that no student should have this amount of power, which was like a storm and volcano intertwined. This led to him being distant with his friends, who could never understand how difficult it was. He'd become so distant that even his friends felt the change. They felt it now, throwing unnoticed glances at him, concern evident in their expressions.

He had seen how many of the students had struggled with the spells they were taught in class. Fortunately, this gave him an idea of how much he needed to downplay his power so as to fit in and not draw attention to himself. He'd also found that he could use his powers to create formidable occlumency shields, which he was so confident in that he believed that no one, not even Dumbledore, could pierce them if he didn't want them to.

A nudge brought him back to reality. As he opened his eyes and looked around, he realised that they had arrived. He saw his friends were already outside, pulling their trunks down after them. Scrambling to his feet, he did the same, landing gracefully. Following Sam and Alex, he walked through the heavy oak doors with the rest of the third years. Swiftly taking their places, he faintly listened to the babbling of Ravenclaw students. As he looked around, he saw that the majority of the students had their heads buried in books already. Bored with his house mates, he turned to observe the staff. There was only one change;Professor Magbip had been replaced by a pale skinned man wearing a turban. As he watched, the man appeared to mutter something to himself before noticing Harry, causing a vicious spike of pain to throb in his away, he breathed in relief as the pain vanished, as though it was never there. Turning back to the table, deliberately avoiding looking at Quirrell, he observed the other professors: Professor Mcgonagall sat to the inner right of the table in her iconic green robes and hat, Professor Sprout, as always, looked like she had just left the greenhouse, Professor Flitwick was talking to Harry's other teacher, Professor Snape. With his iconic black robes and long, greasy black hair, he resembled a bat quite closely.

It was a relief when the oak doors opened for the first years. Harry was sick of the tentative wait and the irritating babbling of Ravenclaws. Like all of the students, he turned to watch each student be sorted. Ravenclaw received about thirty more students, each looking excited at the prospect of joining the 'clever' house. As his brother swaggered towards the stall, an arrogant look on his face, a hush befell the hall which was promptly followed by murmurings. The silence was promptly filled with clapping as the Hat declared, 'GRYFFINDOR.' Only Harry seemed to have noticed that the Hat had kept shooting glances at the Hufflepuff table.

'You're his brother, right?'Someone on the table asked him. Turning his head, he saw that it was one of the first years. At this point most of the table turned around, eagerly waiting his reply-

'Unfortunately'

'What's he like?' The kid pressed, obviously fascinated.'Is he as brave as they say?' Harry snorted.

'He's scared of spiders, hates heights and runs to his parents whenever something frightens him,' he answered dryly. 'You tell me.' Before the kid could ask any more, the Headmaster stood up. The wizened man's movements betrayed his age, yet he moved with a grace and inner strength that Harry was forced to respect, even if he despised him.

'Welcome,' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!'

As he sat down, Harry rolled his eyes in distaste. Someone REALLY needed to teach the Head more jokes. As he filled his plate with food, his Sorting suddenly sprang to mind-

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_As his name was called, Harry slowly walked towards the hat, trying not to betray the anxiety that he felt despite the muttering and murmuring around him._

"_Harry potter?"_

"_Who's he?"_

_Do you think he's related to _the _Potter?"_

"_How many Potters do you think there are, you prat?"_

_Harry barely understood what they were saying, so focused was he on keeping his knees from trembling. What if the Hat didn't Sort him? As he climbed the steps, he tripped and fell to the ground, rising to his feet amidst the titters of laughter that resounded through the hall, his face burning with embarrassment. Sitting, Mcgonagall placed the hat on his head, leaving him feeling like an idiot. The Hat almost covered his entire head. As he sat there, clenching his hands to stop them trembling, he wondered what was going to happen._

_When he heard the clear voice, he nearly jumped out of his skin._

_'Hmm,'said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, so you could fit in to Gryffindor. A good mind too. You like to question what is happening around. You clearly care for others, that's a Hufflepuff trait. There's talent, oh my goodness, so much hidden power. Slytherin could help you with that. Hmm, you fit into all of the houses...'_

_'Look, can you just sort me?' Harry interrupted, weariness taking over his anxiety. 'Not to be rude, but you're taking a long time.'_

_The Hat chuckled.'Another Ravenclaw trait; persistence. Hmmm, what about Gryffindor? Each of your forefathers wished to join that house, yet I sense differently for you.?" Harry stiffened at the mention of his ancestry, causing the hat to...Sigh? "Ah, I see," it said, as Harry felt a gentle probe sifting through the years of abuse he'd suffered at their hands. "How far the once noble house of Potter has fallen. Do not worry, Mr Potter. I shall place you in...RAVENCLAW!' Smiling in relief, Harry began to move the Hat off of his head, but not before it parted with a message that confused him greatly:_

_'Beware, Harry. The darkness in your heart is powerful, and it is only the darkness within ourselves that will destroy us.'_

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What had the Hat meant, that day? As he puzzled over it, the food in front of him vanished and was replaced with deserts. Whooping in delight, he grabbed his favourite snack; cheese puffs. As he chewed them smilingly, Alex looked at him doubtfully.

'How can you eat those things? They're disgusting,' he asked, wrinkling his nose.

'If you've never tried them, you haven't lived!' Harry exclaimed, immediately pushing several into his face. Alex coughed and wiped pieces of cheese puffs off his face, Harry laughed; the first, genuine laugh in a long time.

* * *

Later that night, Harry tossed and turned in his bed, beads of sweat covering his face.

He stood on a tower, overlooking Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and the mountains beyond. The sky was clear and blue and the sun shone, glinting off the snow-covered roofs. Children ran around, playing and laughing. As he watched, a sense of peace covered him. Yet in the blink of the eye the image changed. As he watched in horror and despair, the sky turned dark grey, as black lightning rumbled flashed in the darkness. Hogsmeade had turned from shining, snow-covered houses, to a village of flame. The children he had seen laughing and playing only moments ago, now lay dead on the dark road covered in blood, theirs bodies mutilated beyond all recognition. As he watched, he saw the once magnificent towers of Hogwarts crumble into dust, as the castle burst into flame. His mouth open in a silent scream of horror, he became aware of the bodies of the students and professors that lay all around him. And there, covered in burns, blood and wounds, lay his friends. Feeling like his heart had been wrenched from his chest, he fell to his knees, looked down at the ground and wept.

He had no idea how long he sat there. But when he stood, he heard a voice.

**'If you fail, everything falls,' **the voice hissed, coming from all around him.

'WHO ARE YOU?!' He yelled, fire blazing in his eyes.

'**A being far beyond you,'** the voice replied. **'Heed my words, or everything you love will be destroyed in fire and ice and thunder.'**

He awoke with a start, suprised to find his cheeks wet with tears. For a while he simply sat there, puzzling over the dream. He doubted that it was an illusion, and the being that communed with him must be powerful, to be able to bypass his occlumency shields like that. He was so tired, yet he was so shaken sleep seemed to be a great distance from him, something that he longed for but feared immensely.

He must have sat there for hours, for dawn was breaking by the time he stirred from his brooding. Pulling aside his blinds, he was reassured by the sight of Alex, who was sleeping yet snoring loudly. Sighing in frustration, he pulled his blinds shut and rearranged his sheet and blanket which had been disturbed in his tossing and turning. Turning over, he allowed himself to slip back into the blessed safety of sleep.

* * *

**Soooo**...**what did you think? I'm afraid I've been lazy this Easter, and this is the only chapter I've managed to complete. Therefore, I've made this chapter just under 2000 words (not including this). I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if I can get another chapter done by the end of the holidays, I will.**

**Thanks so much for reading, and if you enjoyed, please review or whatever it is that you want to. XD**

**Happy Holidays!**


	6. Chapter 6:lessons and confrontations

**Welcome to chapter 6! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Anyway, I did what I tried to do and got this chapter to you before the end of the Easter Holidays(mine, anyway). Just so you know, I read your reviews for the last chapter and the ideas and theories you came up with were impressive. However, just one thing I want to address:**

**I chose Ravenclaw over Slytherin for two reasons. First, if Harry was placed in Slytherin Dumbledore, the professors, etc. would become suspicious of him. Harry knew this and chose Ravenclaw, allowing him to proceed unnoticed. Second, Ravenclaw won the poll for 'which house should Harry be in?' that was on my profile page.**

**Anyhow, on with the story. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6:lessons and confrontations

'Potter, wake up!'

'Huh?' Harry mumbled, startled out of his reverie. 3 weeks had passed since his foredream, and each night he was plagued by nightmares of the destruction he had seen, waking up covered in sweat. This meant he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

It was the end of 4th period-Transfiguration-on a Thursday, and the class were already leaving the room, some of the students sending him amused looks, some looks of pity. Swearing under his breath, he hastily shoved his equipment back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder before jogging over to the door. The last thing he needed was to be late to _another_ lesson.

'Tell me Mr Potter, do my lessons bore you?' He heard from behind him. Turning around, he saw that Mcgonagall was glaring at him with one eyebrow raised.

'Uhh, no professor. Why would you think that? He replied innocently, slowly backing towards the door.

'This is the second time this week that you have fallen asleep in my lesson. It's unacceptable.' Barely avoiding rolling his eyes, he moodily apologised before hastily leaving the room.

Another side effect-grumpiness.

Worryingly, Mcgonagall seemed to _care _about him. That was the last thing he needed, to draw attention to himself. Meanwhile back in her classroom Mcgonagall sighed in frustration. The boy had no idea how ill he looked. His face was pale, his hands trembled and dark circles wound their way under his eyes. The boy looked like he was about to drop dead at any moment. Sighing with frustration, she couldn't help but compare him to his younger sibling. Where he was quiet, Alfred was loud and irritating. Where he was humble, Alfred was obnoxious and vain. While Alfred was an open book, Harry was like a closed book that had been chained shut. The worst part? She had no idea what to do. Maybe she should tell Flitwick..?

Sometimes she really hated her job.

* * *

The rest of the day's lessons seemed to pass at a snail's pace. By his final lesson Harry's head was drooping, the fierce headache which felt like someone was beating on the insides of Harry's skull with a club failing to alleviate the weakness he felt. Yet still he smiled and laughed at the jokes his friends made, unwilling to let them see the true extent of his weariness.

Reaching the common room, he told his friends he'd see them at dinner and wearily climbed the stairs to his dorm before collapsing onto his bed. Unwillingly, he closed his eyes, and let the darkness consume him...

It seemed he had only slept for a small amount of time when he was awoken by footsteps heading down the stairs. Checking the clock in the corner of the room, he noticed that it was time for dinner. Doggedly climbing to his feet, he wearily proceeded down the stairs. As he left through the portrait, he was brought to a halt by the sight of Amy standing there, her arms crossed and with one eyebrow raised. Harry quickly covered his surprise and smiled in greeting.

'Harry, what's going on with you?' Amy asked, not changing her stance. Raising an eyebrow in return, Harry shrugged his shoulders.

'Ummm, I'm hungry and it's been a long day...and you really don't believe me,' he drew to a halt, quailing under her look of frustration.

'Harry Potter I swear that if you don't start being honest I'm going to curse you so badly that you'll look like an overgrown squid for the rest of your life!' Amy yelled, causing Harry to slowly back away.

Sighing, he gave in to her threats, knowing he didn't have the strength to argue with her in his current state.

'Bad dreams,' he answered, letting his confidence drop for a few seconds. 'I've been having bad dreams ever since I came back here.' Amy froze in shock; this was one of the rare times where Harry dropped his confident, independent 'I- can-look-after-myself-and-don't-need-help-from-anyone' act, and showed what he really was; a scared thirteen year old who was lost and alone.

'Wha-what kind of dreams?' Amy asked gently, dropping the hard tone to his voice, worried that he'd freeze up.

'It's not important,' he replied, recovering his composure and assuming a blank expression. Cursing under her breath, Amy reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm, knowing that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him today, so she let the subject drop. Once Harry says something isn't important, she'd have better luck becoming Snape's favourite student than she would getting Harry to talk.

'Anyway, I came up here to find you,' she told him, turning toward the stairs, motioning for him to follow before walking so fast Harry had to run to catch up.

'What's happened?' He asked, guessing that he wasn't going to like the answer.

'Your _brother_ is what happened,' she said 'brother' as though she hated the word. 'He's picked a fight in the Entrance Hall with some other Gryffindor called Neville Longbottom."

"Okay? Why are you telling me? Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in scepticism, causing Amy to look at him in frustration.

"Sam is there, and she needs help," she explained slowly, to which Harry waved his hand in dismissal.

"Sam can handle herself, Amy. You should know that by now." Amy looked at him angrily, surprising Harry. Normally, she was quite relaxed and cheerful. If something had her this worked up, it must be serious. Growling in frustration, he rolled his eyes before calling out to the rapidly receding back of Amy.

'_Fine, _I'll sort it,' he reassured her grumpily, causing her to turn around and smile brightly at him.

No sleep for the wicked, it seems.

* * *

The sight that greeted them as he rushed into the Hall did nothing to lighten his mood. His prat of a brother and his ginger friend had their wands pointed at a sobbing round-faced boy on the Hall's floor, who Amy pulled to his feet and pushed into the Great hall. In front of the doors stood Sam, with her wand pointed back at the first year duo. As he watched, Alfred and Ron flung several spells at his friend, who struggled to block the sheer number of spells with a shield charm before spinning to the side so that her back was facing the stairs. Despite himself, he was impressed; it was extremely rare to find a wizard or witch who could cast a shield so powerful he could sense its power from about 30 metres away. Seeing that Sam couldn't hold on for much longer, he took out his wand as he began running, just as an especially powerful spell shattered Sam's shield, throwing her backwards to fall limply on the ground where Neville had previously been lying. Horrified, he changed direction and ran to her side, feeling for a pulse, feeling inexpressible relief when he found one. Yet this grief exploded into fury upon hearing a certain voice.

'You! You were the one who broke my nose!' The Weasley yelled before sending a bolt of magic at Harry, ignoring Alfred's yell to stop.

* * *

As Amy saw Sam's head impact with the hard stone floor, she felt a scream build up inside of her until it caught in her throat, choking her as she stared at the blood leaking from Sam's head with mounting horror. Yanking out her wand, she made to attack the first years, before rebounding off an invisible shield. Turning to Harry, a shiver of fear ran down her spine. All signs of weariness, of pain, of fear, had ebbed away from her friend's form, his pale face appearing chalk white compared to his glowing green eyes, which pulsed with the anger of a storm.

"Amy, get help." Even his voice had changed, echoing as though 2 Harry's were speaking at the same time. Nodding, she dashed away, leaving a furious Harry alone with 2 terrified first years and an unconscious Sam.

* * *

For the first time in years, Harry let himself drop his façade as a weak wizard. As Ron's spell flew towards him, he raised his wand, flicking it aside as though it were a troublesome fly. At this time, both of the fools realised the danger that they were in and increased the power of their spells tenfold, blasting Harry with everything that they had. Yet not one spell reached Harry, due to the transparent shield that appeared in front of Harry, absorbing each of their spells. As he readied himself to smite them both with a crackling bolt of yellow lightning, suddenly a voice of reason echoed through him.

'We don't have to kill them. Just hurt them!'

'NO,' another voice boomed, this one whispering seductively in his ear. 'They hurt Sam, they might have killed her. We must punish them.'

'Don't listen to him,' the weaker voice cried out. 'If you kill them, Dumbledore will find out about us and we might end up in Azkaban!'

Nodding in reluctant agreement, he banished the lethal bolt of lightning. Looking back at the prone form of Sam, he gave a scream of raw primal rage, causing the shield to explode outwards with the force of a bomb. Too surprised to even move at this shocking display of power by a boy they had always mocked, the boys' strongest shields shattered easily before the force of Harry's rather simple spell, sending them hurtling backwards to land in a crumpled heap, to his knees in exhaustion as the weakness of his body became more prominent, he barely noticed as the Great Hall's doors opened with an ominous boom as the professors took in the sight of the 3 unconscious students, failing to notice Harry as his eyes closed and he fell forwards. With the last of his strength he felt himself cast the strongest memory charm he had ever attempted, as though someone else had seized control of his body. As the magic left his body, he felt his eyes roll up in his head, before he slumped to the floor.

It seemed only one person noticed Harry's movement, and the pool of blood slowly building around the girl who lay next to his unconscious form, and the power that he had exerted before falling unconscious.

Everything was about to change.

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**Dum dum dum! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If there's anything you want to see in the future, let me know and I'll see what I can do! :)**

**I enjoyed writing this chapter. I've wanted to write a proper action scene for a while and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**One final note, if you can guess which professor it was that noticed Harry, PM me and If you get it right I'll give you an acknowledgement in the next chapter.**

**Thanks for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter. :)**


	7. Chapter 7:recovery

**Hello and welcome to chapter 7! Congratulations to HowlingRain, who won the guess for who noticed Harry. I'm surprised at the amount of people who believed that it was Mcgonagall. What gave you that idea? Lol.**

**So thank you all for the reviews, follows and favs, they're always appreciated. Someone in their review asked why Ron knows powerful spells. Well, you have to take several factors into account. 1, It was 2v1. 2. Alfred would have been taught spells by his auror parents and Dumbledore. 3. If Alfred was getting lessons regarding spellwork, then Ron would undoubtedly be taught as well, considering that he's effectively Alfred's lackey.**

**This chapter begins about 3 hours after the events of chapter 6. By the way, I'm taking the advice of another reviewer and so " is used to mark when someone is talking, and ' is used when he is thinking something, e.g 'I love cheese puffs.'**

**Enjoy the chapter and please review, fav or follow if you enjoyed. :)**

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Chapter 7: Recovery

As he stirred, all Harry was aware of was the fierce headache he possessed and the ache of tiredness. His body begged him to slip back into sleep, but wish a shock he remembered the fight and the sight of Sam's crumpled form on the ground. Slowly sitting, he opened his eyes.

He was in the hospital wing. The light from outside shone through the open windows and lit up the room. Only 4 beds seemed to be occupied, his, Alfred's, Ron's...and Sam's. As he took in her unconscious form, he slowly slipped his legs over his bed and made to stand...before crumpling to the floor. For a while he just sat there, frightened by his body's weakness. He couldn't even stand up.

It was at this point that Madam Pomfrey entered through her office and stopped dead at the sight of him on the floor, his legs splayed out in front of him. Tutting, she heaved him back onto his bed.

"What, pray tell, were you doing out of your bed, Mr Potter?" She asked, raising her eyebrows in the look he'd come to know as the 'if you give me an answer I don't like you're going to need that bed for the rest of the month' look. Quailing, he couldn't help but look at the bed containing Sam's unconscious form. Catching his look, Pomfrey smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry Harry," she said, using his first name for the first time. "She was lucky; Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape brought the two of you in here. It was lucky the professors brought her here, she'd lost a lot of best-relax, Harry!"she exclaimed, seeing Harry's face turn from pale to the colour of ash. "I healed the injury and she's just sleeping now. As for you, would you care to tell me why you are physically and magically exhausted?" She asked, dropping her sympathetic smile and switching back to her traditional stern look.

Panicking, he opened his mouth to try and think of an excuse, but thankfully he was cut off by the wing's doors banging open. Turning, he smiled as Alex and Amy ran over to the side of his bed. For a few moments no one spoke.

"At least you're conscious this time, Potter,"Alex said grinning before the grin left his face with an "ouch" as Amy elbowed him in the ribs.

"What he _means_ is that it's nice to see you're ok, Harry," Amy said, glaring at Alex who was looking at her with a puppy-dog expression on his face.

"At least Sam's alright," Harry replied, casting a sad smile at Sam's crumpled form, still unmoving. He turned to look at Amy as she quietly coughed, wincing as he turned his head too quickly.

"Harry, we need you to tell us what you did in the Great Hall." Amy spoke gently, as if she thought he was really hurt. Breathing in deeply, Harry pulled himself fully upright, ignoring the numbness in his lower body and the headache that now felt as if someone had hit him over the head with a baseball bat. 'I am Harry James Potter. I'm far more powerful than any student in this school and I will _NOT_ be treated like I'm broken,' he thought, feeling a small amount of strength return to his weary arms, allowing him to pull himself up against the wall.

"What do you want to know?" He asked calmly, dreading the question that he knew was coming...

"How did you stop Alfred and Ron?" Surprised, Harry looked up and saw that Pomfrey, Alex and Amy were all staring at him, waiting for his reply.

"What do you mean? They're only first years," Harry asked, frowning.

"Harry, they've both been trained by _Dumbledore_," Amy replied, rolling her eyes at Alex.

It took him a few seconds to realise that Alex was talking.

"The shield wasn't that strong, I think those two were too busy with trying to hurt-" he was cut off by a large yawn bursting out of his lips. This seemed to be a signal for Madam Pomfrey, who immediately began chivvying the two protesting teens out of the wing.

"The boy needs rest. Out, out out!" Closing the doors, she turned back towards Harry's bed, but saw he was already asleep. A moment of tenderness appeared on her face as she pulled the boy's sheets over his resting form before she re-entered her office.

* * *

After this Harry's condition improved significantly and swiftly**.** A few days later he was able to feed himself, and was even able to walk across the hospital wing, though he was left trembling and breathing heavily. Soon enough he began to nag Madam Pomfrey to let him leave the wing, though she refused to hear of it until he promised to use crutches and not to exert himself magically or physically for at least a month. As he hopped along with his friends he grew frustrated at the worried glances they sent at him every few seconds. He finally managed to shake them by casting a weak illusion charm on him that caused anyone who saw him to see a blond haired, weak-jawed first year on crutches. As he moved towards the moving staircases, he swore violently under his breath; for his 'brother' stood with Ron and another first year. Ignoring them, Harry proceeded to hobble past him, barely avoiding the foot that snaked out to trip him up. Hobbling up the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room and up the steep tower, he leant his crutches against the bedside cabinet before collapsing onto his bed, allowing the spell to slip. 'I hate this school,' he thought despairingly as he slipped into blessed, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Harry," a distant voice called. Groaning, he opened his eyes and silently observed Alex and Tom, who were gesturing to him to follow them for dinner. Realising he couldn't reach his crutches, he began to force himself to stand and walk to them when an arm slipped around his waist and helped him to limp towards them. Smiling gratefully to Tom, he slipped them onto his arms and followed the two towards the dormitory's entrance.

Maybe things weren't so bad, after all.

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**Annnnnnnnnd there's chapter 7! What did you think? I hope you enjoyed and be sure to review, fav, etc if you enjoyed. :)**

**Sorry about the lack of action but it's not really the sort of chapter where he can fight from a hospital bed.**

**So thanks for reading and I'll see you in chapter 8. :)**


	8. Chapter 8:the headmaster

**Hello and welcome to chapter 8! From now on I'll try and have a chapter uploaded by the Sunday of every week.**

**Just so you know, I've gone back through the other chapters and changed any outstanding mistakes. First though, I want to address something.**

**Someone asked me in their review why Harry brought his trunk and owl into the carriage with him. My version of Harry does not place his trust freely. Therefore, he prefers to look after his own possessions.**

**I also want to thank all of you who reviewed, favourited and followed. I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you enjoyed the story enough to let me know, so thank you. :)**

**Without further ado, enjoy the chapter!**

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Chapter 8: The Headmaster

Several days had passed since he'd been released from the hospital wing, and Harry's strength was quickly returning. He was able to walk to and from his lessons and even climb the castle's steep staircases-though the climb still caused his legs to tremble with the strain for a while-and he was finally able to convince his friends to stop acting like his personal bodyguard and behave normally.

Despite his new-found cheerfulness, two things still bothered him. The first was to do with his magic. Harry knew that he had strained himself by using his full power. His growing body still couldn't cope with the strain of his growing magic. Speaking of his magic, he still hadn't fully regained it. It felt like a large piece of his being had been ripped out. Despite this, Harry was relieved. After the events of the last few days, he was glad to be able to behave like the average thirteen year old, with no more fears than his exams and what homework he had to complete. In fact, he didn't have to restrain his magic anymore. The amount of magic that he had lost had left him with a slightly above average level. Harry's only fear was that when it returned, it might return without warning and he might have to strain himself again.

The second was Sam. He visited her each day and Madam Pomfrey claimed that her condition was improving. Yet everytime he touched her hand, it was like touching ice. Her hair was regrowing from where Pomfrey had cut it away to see the gash, and now there was a faint white scar where it had been. He preferred to visit alone, and he was glad that Amy and Sam understood that without him having to explain it. He liked it there, away from the overwhelming noise of the school and Alex's awful attempts to cheer him up. He spoke to her a lot, some part of him hoping that somewhere in her dreams, she could hear him.

"Are you Harry Potter?" A girl's voice asked from behind him. Turning, he smiled at the third year, who was blushing fiercely. Holding out a scroll, she pushed it towards him and as soon as he took it she hastily walked off.

"What was that all about?" Alex asked, coming to a halt upon noticing Harry wasn't following.

"I've no idea," he answered, honestly perplexed. Alex rolled his eyes.

"How about opening it and finding out?" Breaking the seal, he unrolled the message.

"Dear Mr Potter

I require your presence in my office to discuss the incident that occurred last week. Please do not bring anyone else.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. The password is 'lemon drops.'"

"What did it say?" Alex asked as he rolled the letter back up and placed it in his bag. Sighing, he walked the way that they had come, beckoning for Alex to follow.

"Dumbledore wants me to come to his office," Harry replied as they began to climb the stairs, lowering his voice as they passed a group of fourth years. Already, his mind was whirling with what he could say. He couldn't tell them that he was solely responsible for defeating Alfred and Ron, nor could he say that he had taken on both of them at the same time, lest Albus began to take more notice of him. As he reached the gargoyle guarding the office, he spoke the password and the gargoyle sprang aside. Checking that his occlumency shields were in place, he climbed the steps, knocked on the door, and entered.

* * *

The first thing he noticed as he stepped into the room was the loud mixture of sounds. 'I've never been in here before,' he thought as he looked around, awestruck by the room's simple beauty. Large and circular in shape, it was full of peculiar instruments and containing several bookcases piled with books that Harry's Ravenclaw side longed to read. Light shone through the ornate windows, as the instruments on the desk whirred and whistled. A polite cough brought his attention back to the desk...and the smiling, old man sitting behind it.

"I take it you like my books?" He queried, smiling gently.

"It's amazing," Harry replied honestly, still on his guard and so he adopted an expression of amazement.

"Indeed," he answered, an eager expression gracing his face. "In my younger days, I used to travel far and wide. Spain, France, Germany, Africa...I was fascinated by their cultures, their traditions. Each had their own style of magic, and I wished to understand each. So I collected books from all corners of the world, and yet everyday I learn something new...But come, I did not ask you here to discuss my collection of books, fine though it is," the Headmaster interrupted himself, his cheerful façade slipping to a grim face of seriousness.

"Harry, I've already heard Mr Potter and Mr Weasley's account of what happened that day. They claim that Miss Foster attacked them and they retaliated in kind." At this, a red line of anger covered Harry's vision at this lie and he was forced to take a deep breath to calm himself. Raising his eyes to Dumbledore's wrinkled face, he struggled with the flashback of memories that hit him like a tidal wave. Sam flying through the air and lying in a pool of her own blood, the shields shattering under the force of his power...

"Harry?" Shaking himself out of his reverie, he was astonished to see a look of pure sadness on the ancient wizard's face.

"I didn't get there at the beginning, but from what I saw when I arrived makes it likely that what they said is a complete _lie_," he recounted, putting so much emphasis on the word 'lie' that Dumbledore couldn't fail to notice it. "I saw Sam standing in front of a crying first year, casting a shield charm to protect him from their spells. I-I was scared for Sam and I think I pushed my magic too much. That's all I remember, Sir," he answered making sure to overlap those memories with his occlumency shields, so that if he looked the Headmaster would only see those memories, making sure that he edited out his fight with Alfred and Ron and his destruction of their formidable shields. Sure enough, as he met the Headmaster's eyes he felt a strange tingling sensation in his head that was observing the memories. The sensation quickly vanished and Dumbledore slumped back in his chair, suddenly looking his age.

"Thank you, Harry. You may go." he gestured at the door and Harry promptly left, breathing a sigh of relief. As the sound of Harry's footsteps receded and then vanished altogether, the ancient headmaster gazed at his loyal phoenix Fawkes, who was sleeping on his perch.

"Fawkes, I believe I've made a grave mistake."

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**So what did you think? I promised that the next chapter would be up by Sunday, and I've kept my word. If you enjoyed this chapter please consider reviewing and favouring or following.**

**Till next time!**


	9. Chapter 9:secrets and conspiracies

**Hello and welcome to chapter 9! I wanted to let you know that after this chapter, I'll be moving on the events of the end of the year. This is because I do not believe anything of note happened between December(when this is set) and the fight between Harry and Quirrell.**

**Someone commented on chapter 6, with the fight between Sam and Ron and Alfred. Bear in mind that the idea of 'powerful' is relative and can be defined as stronger than usual. If someone has never trained with their full power, and has spent their life hiding it, how can one **_**not**_ **be fatigued if they are exerting themselves? Furthermore, who is more skilled; an average first year, or a first year with years of advanced training? I'm tired of reading stories where Harry is the ultimate wizard and can't be beaten. It makes him an extremely boring character to write.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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Chapter 9: It's Christmas!

October and November passed in a blur for Harry. Weeks blurred into days, and life returned to its uneventful state. Harry was secretly relieved to be able to continue his life as a normal students, with nothing to worry about except friends, food, and homework. For once, Harry could joke and laugh with his friends, without worrying about the burden of keeping his 'incredible' power a secret.

Life began to look up two weeks later, when an old friend returned.

Harry was sitting in the Great Hall, slowly spooning a bowl of porridge into his mouth, when Alex hit him on the shoulder. Turning to glare at him, Harry followed his gaze to the sight of a lone figure standing in the Hall that had caused the Hall's chatter to cease. Her head low to ignore the open-mouthed looks of awe coming from the other students, the figure slowly walked forwards. Her skin was slightly paler than usual, and she limped slightly, but otherwise Sam was fine. Climbing to his feet, Harry slowly walked towards her, a joyful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Just before he reached her, Sam raised her head, her eyes lighting up as Harry sped up and then stopped in front of her. For a moment he stood in front of her, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. Sam embraced Harry fiercely, as though she didn't want to ever let go. For a few minutes they stood like that until they were interrupted by a cough behind Harry, causing an embarrassed Harry to quickly release her. As Sam embraced Amy and Alex, the two girls looking as though they were about to burst into tears while Alex and Harry watched on, unaware that a lone figure was watching the four second years, an expression that could pass for sadness covering his face for a moment, but a moment all the same. As Tom approached the four, the expression on the figure's face vanished.

All of this Harry missed, allowing himself to feel serenity and true joy.

Perhaps fate didn't hate Harry as much as he thought.

* * *

With his friends returned to him, Harry barely noticed as the weeks slipped away from him. Before he knew it, it was the day before the Christmas holidays. With each of his friends going home for the holidays, Harry would be one of the few third years remaining. He knew that Alfred was staying until Christmas Eve, though Harry could not so much as fathom a guess why. His parents would spoil him even more than usual this Christmas, now that he'd managed to get onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Glumly lamenting on the idea that he would be spending the holidays with Alfred while his friends were gone for two weeks.

He spent the rest of the day talking, joking and playing card games with them.

* * *

The sun shone through the windows of Ravenclaw tower, awakening Harry from his sleep. It took a few seconds for Harry to remember that it was Christmas Day, and as he climbed from his bed he was surprised by the sight of a small pile of presents on his bedside table. Pulling them towards himself, he began to unwrap. He'd gotten a box of chocolate frogs from Amy, 3 large packets of Bertie Botts' Ever Flavour Beans from Alex, a pile of defence books from Sam and a tiny circular package from Tom with a note attached. Opening the note, it simply said, "this looked like something that you should have. T." Slowly opening the package, he was amazed at what lay inside of it.

It was a ring. Gold and with a Phoenix and Dragon etched into it, the sun glinted off the ring, illuminating it. Most striking of all, however, was the red gem which glinted in the light The gem was at once hot and cold, as though Harry's hands could not quite detect it. As he turned it around in his fingers, he took note of the ancient archaic writing around it which Harry could not even begin to understand. Casting several disillusionment and protection charms on it, he re-wrapped it in the wrapping paper before depositing it in the bottom of his trunk. Climbing to his feet, he took notice of the time before leaving the room, realising that he was late for breakfast.

* * *

Even though he'd seen it before, Harry still could not get used to the majesty of the Great Hall at Christmas time. The multiple white Christmas trees glimmered like they were covered in starlight. The tables had all been pushed together and covered in a golden tablecloth with crackers placed around the places, and the magical ceiling showed the falling of snowflakes. As he sat, he looked towards the main table where the teachers were obviously enjoying themselves. Dumbledore had exchanged his wizard's hat for a paper Christmas hat, and Mcgonagall's green witch's hat had been skewered due to her becoming tipsy. As he ate, he pulled crackers with the members of his house and could not help but enjoy himself. When he finally left the Great Hall, he had won a small board game of Wizards Chess, 2 paper Christmas hats, and a white mouse which he promptly let go once he'd checked that Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, wasn't in sight. He spent the rest of the day having snowball fights and playing board games with the other students until the sky darkened and the common room slowly emptied. Yawning, he doggedly climbed the stairs of Ravenclaw's tower where, full and tired, he collapsed onto his bed and quickly fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in a distant area in the castle, a professor in a turban was speaking to himself, occasionally whimpering and yelping in pain. For a monster was returning, and _nothing _would stand in its way.

* * *

**So what did you guys think? I'm sorry if Harry and Sam's reunion was too short for your liking, but I was trying to write this in a few hours from scrap and I wanted to get it out today.**

**So the General Elections are tomorrow. The only advice that I can give those that are voting is that your choice is your choice. Do not be bullied into believing what others believe or by the propaganda. Choose whichever party you believe is right.**

**Thanks so much for reading. Please review, fav and follow.**

**Cheerio! :)**


	10. Chapter 10:the confrontation

**Hello and welcome to chapter 10 of A Lost Child! Just as a reminder, this chapter will be the last of Second Year. After this I'm moving on to Third Year.**

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed, favourited and followed the story. :)**

**Now, on with the chapter. Please enjoy and please consider favouriting, following or reviewing if you haven't already. :)**

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Chapter 10: The confrontation

Spring passed in a blur of exams, and soon June arrived. For Harry, he'd never felt such relief as he sat talking and joking with his friends by Hogwarts' lake, their exams finished and their only worry being their results. As he joked and laughed, all his fears and worries slipped to the back of his mind, suppressed by the calm sense of peace that he felt. Listening to an especially elaborate story of Alex's, he rested his head against the bark of the old oak tree next to the lake, and looked towards the school's back entrance. Frowning, he had to sit up to better understand what was happening at the entrance.

Alfred, Ron and Hermione were standing in front of Professor Mcgonagall, and Alfred appeared to be shouting at her about something before the trio stormed off. Subtly tilting his head so that he could observe his friends, he noticed that they were facing away from him, and so they wouldn't notice if he slipped away. Looking back at the school, he saw that Mcgonagall had also left her position at the entrance. Casting a strong disillusionment charm on himself, he also cast a silencing charm on his feet as he walked. As he passed the swimming and laughing kids, he nervously looked around, aware more than ever that his magic wasn't at its peak. As he reached the entrance hall, he realised that he had no idea where the trio could have. However, after a second's contemplation he remembered that Dumbledore had mentioned to the students to stay away from the third floor corridor. It didn't take a genius to work out that he had stored an extremely powerful magical artefact on it. Unfortunately, it seems that it takes a genius to work out that he wanted people to _stay away_. As he ran up the staircase, it occurred to him that the only reason that a bookish person like Hermione would follow Alfred and Ron is because they believed that the artefact was under threat. With this in mind, Harry quickened his pace into a sprint.

It took him a few minutes to reach the door on the third corridor, and as he arrived he noticed that it was wide open. Entering, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that lay before him.

A giant three-headed dog stood in the middle of the room, barking madly at Harry as he jumped backwards against the wall to avoid one of its lunging heads. Pulling out his wand, he shot a random spell at the left head, where it hit the nearby harp, which released a few sounds. Immediately the dog's six eyes drooped before springing open again. An idea formed in Harry's head, and as the dog's barking began again, he conjured a hand-shaped rock which he levitated in front of the harp. As it began to play, Harry slipped past the drooping dog's heads to the small trapdoor behind it. Opening it, he dropped into the darkness below.

* * *

When the ground reached Harry, the first thing he was aware of in the darkness was how soft it was. Raising his wand, he cast 'lumos' and took in what he was standing on.

It looked like a giant mass of tendrils, all looping around each other. As he watched in horrified fascination, the tendrils around him slowly began to wind their way around him. As it crawled up his legs Harry's frantic mind centred on one name; devil's snare. As the tendrils wrapped around his stomach and began to suffocate him, Harry managed to raise his wand and croak out, 'incendio.' At once, a jet of orange flame shot out and coated the devil's snare, burning several of the tendrils away before they could retreat. With nothing holding him up, Harry fell to the ground below with a painful thud. Groaning, he stretched out his back as he stood. 'Note to self,' he thought. 'Cast a slowing charm next time you plan to fall down a hole.' Groaning, he stumbled along towards the next puzzle.

* * *

The third puzzle was full of flying, winged keys. As he looked around the immense room, he saw a particularly battered key slowly flying around. As he made towards it, however, he noticed that the the door to the next room was already open. With one last look behind him to ensure that there was nothing behind him, he pushed on into the next room.

The next room was completely unexpected. A giant board was located in the middle of the room. On the two back rows of the board, life-sized chess pieces stood, as though they were waiting for the other to move. Sighing, he noticed an unconscious Ron in the corner, with a seemingly exhausted Hermione sitting next to him. A small stream of blood was slowly oozing from a nasty cut on Ron's head, and if he didn't get help soon he would bleed to death. Casting a sleeping charm on Hermione, he crouched next to Ron and whispered a healing charm, allowing his magic to feed the spell and stop the flow of blood. Climbing to his feet, he began to walk towards the open door at the far end of the room, completely ignoring the chess pieces that stood in his way.

It was that arrogant dismissal of the pieces that nearly cost him his life, as the king lashed out at him with his sword. Yelping in surprise, he ducked the blade. Angered, Raising his wand, he cried out 'reducto' and watched as the powerful blasting charm shattered the king and the two pieces on either side of him. As the rest of the pieces turned towards him, he dashed through the space left by the now destroyed pieces and reached the door as the pieces reached the space that he'd ran through. As he entered, he recoiled at the vicious smell that reached him. Turning to face the room's occupant, he was shocked to notice that the mountain troll in the middle of the room was unconscious with a head injury that was dripping green blood. Covering his nose, he advanced into the next room.

* * *

An array of potions stood on pedestals. As Harry moved closer, a wall of purple flame sprung from behind him, blocking the way back. Noticing the two missing potions, he kicked one of the pedestals in anger. 'Stupid, stupid Harry!' He thought. "Now how are you going to get through?" In experimentation, he cast 'aguamenti' on the fire in front of him, and as he watched in despair the water evaporated before it reached the fire. Furious, he began to release his power in frustration. Here he was, with a wall of fire in his way and a wall of fire behind him, and he wasn't smart enough to think of a way past it! However, as he watched the power he was releasing flowed into the purple fire, and it began to wane and shrink. An idea formed in Harry's head, and he released another jet of water, this time one which was coated in his magic. As he watched in surprise and delight, the fire shrank into nothingness. Warily poking his foot over the gap where the fire had been, he forced himself onwards into the final room.

* * *

The contents of this room were like no other that Harry had seen. The flames on the torches burnt brightly, but the room still appeared to be covered in a layer of darkness. Alfred was wrapped in chains in the middle of the room, and Quirrell was standing by a giant mirror with strange runes carved into it. He appeared to be talking to himself, yet something was talking back. Slowly creeping into the room, he increased the intensity of his disillusionment charm, so that he was truly invisible for all intents and he watched, Quirrell began to unwind the ridiculous turban around his head. As it came away from his head and Alfred screamed, Harry understood why he never removed it.

A second face was implanted in the back of his head. Grey and almost shapeless of face, its most disturbing and eerie feature were its crimson red eyes, which glinted malevolently in the darkness. As Harry watched with increasing nausea, its mouth widened into something resembling a smile, and it began to talk.

"Alfred Potter. Long have I waited the day where I would meet you again." Harry gulped and began to draw his power to him, imagining it as a big ball of power.

"Wh-who a-are yo-you?' Alfred asked, his terror evident in his voice. It was clearly the wrong thing to ask, for Lord Voldemort hissed in anger.

"You do not recognise Lord Voldemort, idiot boy?" The hideous face responded, it's crimson eyes seemingly increasing in ferocity. "You do not recognise the most powerful dark wizard of all time? Quirrell, he is more of a fool than you told me. You are certain this is not his brother?"

"Yes-Yes Master," Quirrell answered, terror evident in his voice. Leaning in close, Voldemort hissed in anger, causing Alfred to screech in pain as he shook his head from side to side. Harry knew why; being invisible didn't stop his head from feeling as though it was splitting open. It was taking all of Harry's willpower not to cry out. "Ah yes, now I see. To think that this snivelling coward could ever pose a threat to me, the greatest wizard of all time! Now Potter, you will retrieve the stone and give it to me, or I will make you suffer."

At this, a strange confidence appeared to overtake Alfred, and he lost the tremor in his voice. "If you're so powerful, why don't you get it for yourself?" The face laughed maniacally. "So be it. I was going to let you live, but it seems your ignorance and your ego is too large. Quirrell, kill him."

As Quirrell raised his wand, Harry released a small portion of his magic, shattering the chains holding Alfred, who dived out of the way as a flash of green light illuminated the spot that he'd been standing in. As Alfred pulled out his wand and shot off several random spells, Quirrell switched from using killing curses to a mixture of unforgivables and stunners. With the monstrous face screaming "kill him, Quirrell, kill him" one of Quirrell's spells were lucky, connecting with Alfred's back, causing him to collapse to the ground. As Quirrell bent over Alfred to point his wand at his face, Harry released a powerful blast of wind, knocking him onto Alfred's stirring body. Screaming, Quirrell rolled off of him, covering his right hand. As Alfred raised his hand and stared at Quirrell, he reached out and planted his hands on the sides of Quirrell's/Voldemort's head, who continued to scream in agony. As Quirrell's face crumbled, Harry subtly fed Alfred some of his power, unknowingly boosting the strength of whatever it was that Alfred was doing. Smiling, Harry didn't realise his disillusionment charm had worn off, and as Quirrell's face crumbled, he turned to look at the frozen elder Potter boy. Before he could move, Quirrell's body crumbled to dust as Voldemort's spirit burst out of its body and collided with Alfred, sending him flying backwards to collapse in a crumpled heap close to the chamber's entrance.

At last, Harry was the only conscious survivor. Walking over towards the mirror, he gazed into it. An image was playing out on the surface. Harry stood there with his parents. However, they weren't ignoring each other or fighting, they were smiling joyfully at each other. Shaking himself from the image, he realised that he was crying. Brushing away the tears impatiently, he heard movement on the steps. Suddenly realising the danger of being caught here, Harry quickly thought of his bed in the dorm room. As he teleported away, Dumbledore, Mcgonagall and Snape entered the room, where they stopped in shock before rushing to Alfred's aid. As Dumbledore began to treat the boy, he realised that Alfred did not possess the Philosopher's stone.

Meanwhile in a giant four-poster bed in the Ravenclaw dorm room, a twelve year old boy lay fast asleep, his face glistening with shed tears.

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**Annnnd that's the first year done! Next chapter will just have a brief summary of the train journey back and then the rest of that chapter will be centred around the aftermath of the events that occurred in this chapter.**

**Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have any suggestions for the story, let me know.**

**If you enjoyed, please consider reviewing/following/favouriting. :)**

**Anyway, that's all for now.**

**Cheerio!**


	11. Chapter 11:repercussions

**Hello and welcome to chapter 11 of The Lost Child! This chapter officially marks the end of the first year.**

**As a side note, I want to thank you all for the support that you have given me over the course of the previous chapters.**

**I'm afraid I have some bad news regarding this story; I won't be able to update for another 3 or 4 weeks. The main reason as to why is because I have my exams coming up and I really need to revise for them. However, when I come back I promise that I will post an extra long chapter for you to read.**

**On a lighter note, I want to ask your opinion on my future plans for this story. I am tempted to change how Harry's time at Hogwarts is going to be spent. Originally, I was going to do it from Alfred's first year (Harry's third year) to Alfred's fifth year (Harry's seventh year). However, I did not take into account how much that limits me and how much it reduces my ability to add in another plot. Therefore, I am contemplating whether I should have something happen to Harry so that he can't go to Hogwarts for the entirety of each year.**

**If you agree with what I'm considering, or if you want it to be like I originally intended it to be, please PM me and let me know.**

**Anyway, on with the story! Enjoy and please consider favouriting/following/reviewing.**

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Chapter 11:repercussions

It was the morning of the 30th of June and the school seemed to be full of students moving around while they waited for the Hogwarts Express to arrive. Harry and his friends were all sitting together at the Ravenclaw table eating, their trunks packed and ready. The few days between the events with the philosopher's stone and today had been uneventful. Gryffindor had won the house cup after Dumbledore added some last minute points to it for Alfred, Ron and Hermione. Despite his disgust at how his brother was preening himself beneath the attention he couldn't help but feel glad that Slytherin hadn't won the house cup for the 7th year running. His friends had noticed that he'd disappeared from his seat against the oak tree, and he'd had to lie, telling them that he was exhausted after the exams. Thankfully, they'd all believed him, yet he'd noticed Tom directing a questioning glance at him.

Sighing he pushed his bowl away as Professor Flitwick began walking down the table, handing out the 'no magic' notes as he went. Taking his, he pushed it into his robe's right pocket. As he withdrew his hand from his pocket, the professors indicated that the students should make their way to the train. Climbing to his feet, he pulled his trunk along. The moment he left the school, it felt like something important had been stripped from his heart. Shaking himself from his reverie, he followed his friends onto the carriage.

* * *

The ride to the Express was uneventful, to say the least. While his friends spent the trip down talking and comparing their grades, Harry just rested his head against the back of the carriage and became lost in his own thoughts. His grades had been adequate, neither amazing nor awful. The majority of his grades were A's and E's, with a O in Charms and Transfiguration. These were the only subjects that he didn't have to hide his potential in, due to the teachers for each being too perceptive for him to hide a lot of his true power from like he did in his other subjects. He was glad that Potions didn't require magic, or he'd probably have already been found out.

As the carriage halted outside the train and as he and his friends entered an empty compartment, he couldn't help but reflect darkly on the fact that his parents would be so _proud _of their _heroic_spoilt son, who stopped Voldemort from returning. Pretending to take an interest in Alex and Amy's game of Exploding Snap, he laughed as the two argued over who was winning.

'I may not have a family that cares about me,' he thought. But at least my friends do.'

* * *

At last, they arrived at King's Cross station. As they waited to leave in twos and threes, Harry was surprised when Amy and Sam hugged him.

"My ribs, my ribs!" He croaked, trying to feebly push off the two, who finally got the message and backed off. Turning, he shook hands with Tom, whom he knew hated things like hugs-and Alex.

"I'll see you on the 20th August?" He asked, smiling at them as he prepared to leave. After they agreed Harry turned towards the barrier and, steeling himself, walked through. As he made his way to the place where his parents were already fussing over his brother, he hid his emotions behind an occlumency shield and adopted a cold expression. With the two adults barely acknowledging him, the four left the station, where James grabbed Alfred's arm and Lilly grabbed Harry's as they apparated to Potter Manor.

As soon as he could, he pulled away from Lilly, making his way towards the staircase.

"Harry, wait!" Sighing, he turned to see Lilly standing in front of him, smiling warmly. Harry wasn't fooled.

"What?" He asked before beginning to climbing the stairs.

"Harry!" Rolling his eyes, he turning to face her again, raising his eyebrow as if to say 'what?'

"I-I was wondering what you wanted for dinner?" She asked, her smile faltering for the first time. For a moment Harry pretended to consider, before turning around and continuing up the stairs. Lilly stood staring after him for a few moments, her eyes filling with tears. At the sound of her youngest son laughing, she turned around towards the sound, hiding her tears behind a fake smile.

Meanwhile, her eldest son sat on his bed in his bedroom, rolling a small ruby stone between his fingers.

And the countdown began.

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**And that's the end of the chapter! I hoped you enjoyed the chapter and consider reviewing, favouriting and following.**

**That's all for now!**

**Cheerio!**


	12. Chapter 12:Fourth year

**Hello and welcome to chapter 12 of The Lost Child! I'm SO sorry about how long it's been.**

**I'm afraid with my studies and revision *sob* updates to this story will be a bit...random.**

**Oh, one more warning! This chapter is darker than usual but I did my best to lighten it up further on.**

**Anyway, please enjoy and review! =)**

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Chapter 12: fourth year

The 1st of September was an overcast day, which failed to improve the eldest Potter child's mood, as he sat on the Hogwarts Express. Throughout the morning he'd been forced to listen to the prattle of his parents as they fussed over the imbecile, who still doesn't realise that preening himself makes him look like even more of an idiot than usual.

Sighing, Harry rested his head against the cool wood of the cabin and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He was so _tired_. Ever since the encounter in the shop his dreams had been growing steadily worse. Just last night, he'd watched helplessly as hooded figures butchered the students and left their bodies in heaps like a bag of rubbish, their crimson blood staining the ancient grounds. He'd then be forced to watch as the animals tortured and butchered the first and second year students, before brutally breaking their necks with magic and casting their lifeless bodies aside. With his terribly vivid dreams and the aching headache that now afflicted him, he could only get a few hours sleep every night. This left him more irritable and snappish than usual.

Even the arrival of his friends didn't do much to improve his mood. They spent most of the journey talking about the upcoming lessons, and the new DADA teacher.

"Did you hear about the new DADA teacher?" Amy asked eagerly, sitting further upright. Alex rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you've only told us about 10 times," he answer dryly, before yelping when Amy slapped him across the arm. "I was joking!"

"_Anyway," _Amy continued, glaring darkly at Alex. "I can't wait for Lockhart's lessons. Have any of you read his books?" At this all of the compartment's occupants, even Tom, looked at her incredulously. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing," Harry answered, surprised. "It's just-you reading outside of school..."

I read all the time!" Amy exclaimed, scowling. Chuckling, Harry turned to look out of the window.

"If you say so," he replied. Giving up, Amy turned to Samantha.

"You must have read them. You have, haven't you?" Amy added, raising her eyebrows when Sam didn't answer.

"She probably values her eyes," Alex muttered, disguising it as a cough when Amy glared murderously at him. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Harry rested his head against the window, and stared at the platform as the train stopped.

"Merlin's beard..."

The platform outside Hogwarts was even more chaotic than last year. As Harry and the other fourth years walked towards the carriages, they had to navigate their way through the crowd of First years going towards the boats, and the confused Second years who were just walking around in circles. Pulling himself and his suitcase into one of the carriages, he helped up Sam - who smiled in thanks - and Tom, who just raised an eyebrow before pulling himself up gracefully without help. While the carriages slowly proceeded up the path towards the school, he listened wearily to Alex and Amy's argument about whether Lockhart is a fraud and tried to avoid Tom's attempts to make eye contact, which he covered by striking up a conversation with Sam about her summer holiday. Harry was mulling over Tom's behaviour. He'd been trying to make eye contact with Harry for the entire journey, and now he was just staring at him. The fact that he didn't know why was starting to irritate him. Choosing to disregard it for now, Harry shook himself and grabbed his trunk as the carriage came to a halt outside the school.

* * *

No matter how many times he saw it, Harry didn't think he'd ever get used to the sight of the Great Hall in all its splendour. Directing his gaze towards the staff table, he lamented that he couldn't say the same about the staff. Snape was pointedly ignoring Lockhart, who was probably trying to boast about his "achievements" with ridiculous hand motions. Rolling his eyes, he sat at the Ravenclaw between Amy and another girl called Cho, who blushed and turned away when he looked at her. Rolling his eyes, he turned to look at the Great Hall's doors as they swung open with an ominous boom and the First Years, led by Mcgonagall, entered the hall and lined up in front of the weathered old hat that lay on the stool in the middle of the hall. Paying only the slightest attention to the sorting, he took advantage of the distraction to look around at the other tables. Alfred, Ron and a bushy-haired girl were muttering to each other and shooting glances at the first years. Sweeping his gaze across the Staff, he noticed that Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, Snape and Flitwick were staring at him, though they looked away as soon as they realised he noticed them staring at him.

Finally, the sorting ended. The only name that Harry recognised was a ginger haired girl's surname, that of Weasley. 'Great,' he thought to himself. 'Another Weasley to put up with.' Turning his attention to the food that suddenly appeared on the table, he piled food onto his plate while he listened to the table's conversation about Quidditch and revision. Scooping up a spoonful of peas, Harry chewed them slowly as he contemplated the reason for the teacher's behaviour. There was no way that they could know the truth about his power and skill-could they? For the first time since his arrival at the school, Harry began to doubt his concealment skills. If they weren't strong enough to hide his true nature, then how could he expect to stay hidden? The panic at this thought was almost knee-buckling, and Harry noticed that several of the peas on his plate were rippling, as if they were about to explode. Taking a deep breath, Harry concentrated on his occlumency training and allowed his magic to pass through him, directing it into the ground so that it could be absorbed without any obvious signs.

Barely suppressing a sigh of relief, he reached for a chicken drumstick, when they vanished with a pop and was replaced with a series of deserts. Taking a slice of treacle tart, he slowly ate it as he listened with interest to the conversation about the new teachers this year.

* * *

Finally, the feast ended and the students were allowed to leave. Climbing into his bed, Harry began the long and tiring task of rebuilding his magical defenses. After the fights of last year, his defenses had been reduced to the point that they could barely stop a weak disarming spell. Imagining the shield as a cocoon, he imagined it coiling around his body, the thick walls wrapping tightly around him. As he finished the ritual, Harry opened his eyes to the light of early dawn. Feeling the fatigue of the ritual taking effect, he curled into a ball and fell into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Aaaannnndddd that's the end of the chapter! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and it made up for my absence (sorry once again).**

**I might not be able to update for a while because this year is my exam year =(. I enjoy writing this story and wish that it wasn't like that. ='(**

**But, you can make it better by reviewing! Tell me what you thought, what you want to see in the future, and what you believe the reason was behind the teachers staring at Harry. *Wink***

**Thank you so much for reading this chapter.**

**Cheerio! =)**


	13. Chapter 13:Lockhart

**Hello readers! Welcome to chapter 13! I managed to find some free time in order to write this chapter. It's hard to believe it's been exactly one year since this story began...wow!**

**Just a heads-up, for anyone who is curious as to Harry's backstory, I will be writing a chapter regarding his origins after this one. I'm sorry it's taken so long, but I haven't been comfortable with doing that until now.**

**Oh, and for those who want a love interest for Harry, there's a poll on my profile page with a selection of people. There's also a "none" and "other" option. Please vote.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 13: Lockhart

Harry sighed as Flitwick handed him his timetable. He had double DADA first, then Herbology, then Potions. Grumpily dumping his timetable on the table beside his porridge, his sullenly spooned his breakfast into his mouth. He'd woken up hoping that he'd have an easy day. 'Oh, how wrong I was,' Harry thought blackly. However, he figured he couldn't complain. Last night had been the first uninterrupted sleep he'd had in weeks. Still, the tiredness plagued him relentlessly, always just one step behind, ready to pounce and ensnare him once more. It secretly scared him. If he was constantly tired, how could he hope to protect his secrets from the professors, especially Dumbledore?

Sighing, he allowed his spoon to clatter into his bowl. Grabbing his timetable, he walked out of the Great Hall and up the stairs towards the Ravenclaw tower to get his bag. Giving the password for entrance, he climbed through and walked up the stairs to the Fourth-years' dorm. Upon entering, he stopped in surprise at the sight of Sam standing beside his bed, looking out of the window next to his bed.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Harry asked. This was the first time he'd seen her in the boy's dormitory.

"We need to talk," Sam told him, still looking out of the window.

"Uh, sure. What about?" At this, Sam turned to face Harry, her mouth drawn into a grim line. Stepping forwards until she was right in front of him, she looked up and held his eye.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" Sam ask harshly, the emotion in her tone startling the Potter child. "You've been really moody and tired for almost TWO TERMS." Surprised, Harry could only gape at her for a few minutes as she stared at him in frustration before rolling her eyes and pushing past him. As she reached the entrance to the dorm, she paused in her steps and looked back one final time at Harry.

"You can't hide the truth from me, Harry. Not now, and not ever again." And with that, she left.

* * *

Gilderoy Lockhart was far from a humble man. Even as he walked into the classroom, he wore that infuriating smile. It's as if it's permanently attached to his face, Harry thought, rolling his eyes as Lockhart winked at the class. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat as he waited for this-this _peacock_ to teach. As it became clear that the idiot was more interested in pumping himself up than actually help, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out one of Lockhart's books, flipping through it idly, he stopped after a few pages after realising that there was nothing in there. No magic. No instruction. Just a series of Lockhart's stories. Tossing it back into his bag, Harry made the mistake of catching Lockhart's eye.

"Ah! The eldest Potter! Barry, isn't it?" Lockhart exclaimed, beaming like an idiot. Meeting his eye, Harry tried to convey just how much he despised the wizard through holding the elder man's eye. Lockhart seemed taken aback at this, and Harry relaxed.

"Harry, sir," he corrected the wizard watching as the wizard swallowed before regaining his composure.

"Ah, of course! Forgive me, it's difficult to distinguish between my many fans at times," he chuckled nervously, moving away from Harry. "Now, I thought I'd start you off by testing your knowledge! You have 50 minutes to answer the questions on the paper in front of you. Begin!"

Sighing, Harry turned over the paper and read the first question: 'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?' Flipping through the paper in disbelief, Harry noticed that every single question related to Lockhart. Raising his hand, he waited impatiently for Lockhart to pretend he couldn't see Harry before reluctantly acknowledging him.

"Yes Mr Potter? What is it?" Lockhart sighed, as if simply asking that question took a great deal of effort.

"Sir, not one of these questions is about magic," Harry replied, holding the paper above his head.

"Your point, Mr Potter?" Wrestling with the urge to curse the man, Harry tossed the paper back on his desk.

"Sir, this doesn't help me in any way. Why should I answer a paper that has nothing to do with my education?" After each word, Lockhart's smile slipped slightly until it changed into a frown.

"Mr Potter, if you have an issue with my teaching methods, there's the door," Lockhart answered, pointing idly at the door. Feeling everyone's eyes on him, Harry's face began to redden in anger. Seemingly taking Harry's silence as a "no", Lockhart smiled triumphantly. "Now please, answer. The. Paper." Pulling the paper towards him, he glanced at it for a few moments before pushing it away from him. For the rest of the lesson, he just sat with his arms crossed glaring at Lockhart, ignoring the looks his classmates gave him.

As he walked towards the Great Hall for dinner later on, he was surprised when a hand was laid on his arm. Turning to the hand's owner, he smiled at Sam, who didn't smile back.

"You. Me. Talk now." That was all she said before she pulled him towards an empty classroom, closing the door behind them. Turning to face him, she folded her arms and stared at him. After a few minutes, Harry became restless and broke the silence with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

"Did you bring me here just to stare at me?" Harry teased, his smirk growing as Sam blushed before somewhat regaining her composure. As she opened her mouth, however, the classroom door opened and Professor Flitwick walked in.

"Ah, Mr Potter! I thought I saw you come in here. Forgive me Miss Smith but could I have a word with Harry, please?" Flitwick squeaked, looking expectantly at Sam, who nodded reluctantly. Giving Harry a look that clearly told him that this wasn't over, she left. Once the door closed, Flitwick's warm smile vanished as he turned to Harry before beckoning at the chairs. Taking a seat at one of the desks, he turned to face Harry, who remained standing.

"Now Mr potter", he said seriously, his eyes making Harry feel as if he was being x-rayed. "Perhaps you could tell me what happened with Professor Lockhart today." Sighing, Harry took a seat at the adjacent desk.

"There's not much to it, Professor", he answered, turning to look at the shorter man. "He gave us a pointless paper that had nothing to do with the subject, so I told him what I thought. That's all." Flitwick nodded knowingly.

"Yes, I believe I understand where you are coming from, Harry", he replied. "However, he is still your teacher, so show him some respect. No!" he raised his voice to interrupt Harry's protests. "You don't realise that you're treading on thin ice, after what happened last year." Sighing, Harry nodded and walked towards the door.

"Just one more thing, Harry", the diminutive wizard asked, watching Harry as he turned to look back. "I think it's about time you told me the truth." This statement baffled Harry, who looked inquisitively at the professor.

"The truth about what, sir?" He asked, stepping away from the door slightly. Flitwick sighed, but whether it was out of frustration, weariness or sadness, Harry couldn't tell.

"You know what I'm talking about, Harry. The cause of your current predicament. The incident that has made you infamous at this school.

I wish to know the truth about what happened last year, between yourself, Miss Smith, Mr Weasley and your brother."

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**DUN DUN DUNNNNN! Seriously though, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. For those who said Flitwick in answer to my question at the end of chapter 6 (wow, feels so long ago now, haha), congratulations! Have a cookie on me! I don't have any on me, unfortunately, so you'll have to get your own =(.**

**Well, that's all for now! Enjoy Halloween and have fun. I have no idea when the next chapter will be ready, but it will be sometime New Year's Eve. That's the best I can promise for now, since my exams are taking place in November/December time *sob sob*.**

**Please take the time to review to tell me what you thought, and please also take the time to answer the poll on my profile page. =)**

**Cheerio!**


	14. Chapter 14: Repressed memories

**Welcome to chapter 14. This chapter is devoted to Harry's childhood, why he hates his parents, etc. This will kind of be a pause in the story, where Harry contemplates his childhood. Some of the key memories tie into his talk with Flitwick, so some of the most prominent memories will be covered in the chapters following this. I want to apologise for how long it has taken for me to get around to talking about his childhood, but it's what I consider to be one of the weakest parts of my writing ability. Therefore, if it's not that good, please bear that in mind.**

**Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Chapter 14: Repressed memories

Time seemed to pause around Harry. Flitwick froze in the middle of a sentence, and the faint noises coming from the Great Hall simply vanished. As Harry sat there in amazement, he suddenly bent double at the the agonising rush of memories that hit him, overloading his Occlumency shield. Grabbing his forehead in pain and scrunching his eyes shut tightly, Harry waited for the pain to go. As the pain slowly began to fade and dissipated, Harry opened his eyes and began to rub his head, before stopping in mid-action at what had happened to his surroundings.

He was in Potter Manor's living room. It was unmistakeable: The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and little lights twinkled around the room. The cream walls were decorated with pictures and drawings, while Harry sat on a comfy brown sofa. Baffled, he looked around in a desperate attempt to find something to grasp. "Yes, there are the Christmas decorations, there's snow outside so it much be around Christmas," he thought. As he thought this over, a young dark-haired child came running into the room, shouting "Mummy! Daddy!" and waving a drawing in his outstretched hand. Focusing on the child's face, Harry's blood ran cold. 'The raven hair, the green eyes...it-it's me!' Harry panicked, trying to move out of the child's way, but it was too late. As the child was a few metres from him, Harry braced himself to fall, yet the child ran straight through him. Frowning at this, Harry gingerly touched his arm and discovered that it was solid. Confused and scared, Harry's eyes were caught by the moving photos on the mantelpiece. Stepping close to them, he noticed that he was in each photo, his younger self smiling and laughing with the rest of his family. From the photos, Harry concluded that he must of been about 3 at this point in time.

Realising that he had nothing to lose, he followed his younger self - who had frozen at the other entrance to the living room but who now continued running - as he dashed into the kitchen, where Lily and James stood, with Lily nursing an infant Alfred. As the young Harry came running in, James picked him up, smiling.

"What is it, champ?" he asked, smiling kindly at the young Harry, who pushed the drawing against his father's chest. Harry was stunned; his father NEVER smiled at him like that now.

"I dwew this," he lisped, smiling joyously. Remembering that they couldn't see him, Harry gingerly walked up beside his father, looking at the messy drawing of the four Potters all smiling outside a cube house. Turning to watch his father's reaction, Harry was shocked to notice Lily and James hugging Harry.

"It's wonderful, Harry," Lily assured the young child. "I'm going to hang it just here," flicking her wand and sticking the photo to the wall above the dinner table. "So that I see it everytime I come in here." His innocent younger self seemed ecstatic at this, throwing his arms tighter around his laughing parents. "Yay!" He whooped.

Meanwhile, the older Harry watched, his face conflicted between happiness and sadness. As he stood there, the memory faded, to be replaced with another that seemed so similar that Harry thought he was in the same memory. As he observed however, he noticed subtle differences. His parents looked a bit older, while Alfred had grown from a baby into a toddler, who Harry estimated to be about 3. A slightly older Harry than the one in the last memory came running in, carrying another drawing. "Mummy, look!" He beamed, thrusting the drawing towards a drawn Lily. Looking at it, Lily began to smile at the younger Harry, and the older Harry began to smile. Yet suddenly Alfred started wailing after spilling his cereal, and Lily dropped the drawing in order to console the toddler. The younger Harry was painfully surprised, and tapped his mum.

"Mummy, what do you think?" He said, smiling innocently.

"Um, it's fine, Harry." Lily replied absent-mindedly, as Alfred continued to screech. "Just take it away."

"Are you going to frame it, mummy?" The poor child asked.

"NOT NOW, HARRY!" Lily yelled, glaring at the young Harry, whose face was heartbroken. Turning away, young Harry ran upstairs crying. Sighing in shame, Lily called after him, "Harry! I'm sorry!"

"I'll speak to him," James said.

"Thanks, James," Lily replied, smiling wearily at him. As James left the room, the memory faded once again.

After a few seconds, the next memory formed and Harry found himself in the living room of the manor, yet there was something different this time. The fire that once burnt merrily in the hearth had been reduced to embers, and the room was darkened. Lily, James and a 5 year old Alfred stood by the door, putting on winter clothes and getting ready to leave the house.

"Come on Alfred, let's go ice skating," James encouraged Alfred, opening the door.

"What about Harry, dad?" Alfred asked, frowning in confusion.

"What about him?" Lily replied, gently pushing Alfred towards the door. "He's 8 years old, he's old enough to look after himself." With that, the door slammed behind them, sending ripples of sound echoing through the building's hallways. Suddenly, the memory pulled ahead a few hours, so that Harry could hear dull sobs coming from the kitchen. Reluctantly moving towards the door, Harry slowly opening the door, stopping dead at the image of his 8 year old self weeping on the floor, his pale face screwed up with tears. Even if the memory had dulled in prominence in Harry's mind, he could still remember the painful hunger that gripped his body, tearing his body apart with the longing for food.

As Harry watched, his younger self began to glow with a strange golden light, as the bread he'd been desperately trying to eat floated down to his level, allowing the memory Harry to grab and tear into it. Suddenly, the memory faded and quickly resumed, showing Harry at different parts of his life; him receiving his Hogwarts letter and being shunned by his parents despite it, using his power to summon food towards him, trying to train himself in the use of his power. As each one went past, Harry's face grew older and colder, and his very figure grew taller and more muscular. At last, Harry arrived in his memory of the present, where time was still frozen around him. Realising that tears were pouring down his face, Harry wiped them away hurriedly, using a low-level disillusionment charm to hid his reddened eyes and face.

As he waited for time to resume, Harry contemplated on what he had just seen. Frowning, he realised that, whatever it was that had caused him to see his past, it had not revealed his birth, nor what had happened on the night Voldemort attacked. Vowing to solve this mystery, Harry nearly flew off his chair when Flitwick continued talking.

"-Know what happened between you, Miss Smith, Mr Weasley and young Mr Potter." Turning to face him, Harry looked him in the eye and smiled.

"Very well sir, I'll tell you everything."

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**Thanks for reading. I was already working on this chapter before the last one, so that's why it's being published. My work will stop me from producing any more until Christmas time.**

**Please review with what you thought.**

**Cheerio!**


	15. Chapter 15: Confessions?

**Hey readers! Welcome to chapter 15. Thank you to everyone who has involved themselves in the poll to decide who Harry's love interest (if he has one) should be. If you're interested in answering this quick question, it's on my profile. Check it out!**

**I managed to find the time to complete this chapter, so this is my Christmas present to all of you who've stayed with me throughout this story. I am so pleased that you have read this story, and I hope you'll stick with me until its end.**

**Without further ado, on with the chapter. Enjoy, please review, and have a great Christmas!**

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Chapter 15: Confessions?

"Do you remember when I first arrived at Hogwarts, Professor? "Harry asked the diminutive Charms teacher, surprising him. The child had turned towards him, and he seemed to have grown in the last few seconds; a startling change from the brooding, quiet persona Harry had possessed only moments ago.

"Of course, Harry. It's not something I forget easily," Flitwick replied, smiling genuinely at the Potter.

"Did you notice how the sorting hat spent a greater amount of time talking to me than to any one else who was getting enrolled?" Harry asked again, holding up his hand for silence when Flitwick opened his mouth to interrupt. The Charms professor closed his mouth and slowly nodded, frowning in concentration at the effort of remembering the event that had taken place over 3 years ago. "Yes Harry, I do remember. At the time I assumed it was simply because of your desire to not be placed into a certain house," Flitwick answered. Harry half-smiled in response to this, and shook his head.

"No, it was nothing to do with that, sir. It had a conversation with me. To cut a long story short, it told me something. It told me that 'it is the darkness inside of us that is our greatest enemy'. I dismissed it more of the hat's nonsense.

"Until last year. For most of last year I kept receiving terrible dreams that were almost prophetic in their nature." Harry continued, his eyes becoming unfocused and haunted and his skin growing paler as he recalled something so horrific that Flitwick shuddered at the thought of what it could possibly be.

After a few minutes, Harry's eyes refocused.

"Anyway, these dreams centred around Hogwarts burning and everyone who lives here dying. It moved on to tell me that this would happen soon. Because of that I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a while." Flitwick nodded understandingly, recalling how he'd caught Harry falling asleep twice in his lessons. He's assumed it was because of studying or homework. "That went on for several weeks, with the dream changing every time. Sometimes the school and its students would be on fire, other times the students would be gutted and left to bleed to death. You get the picture."

"And then..._It _happened," Harry sighed, slumping in his chair. "I was heading back to the Ravenclaw tower because I was exhausted, when Amy came running up and told me that Alfred was attacking Sam in the Entrance Hall," Harry continued, the light in his eyes dimming slightly. "I came running down to find Alfred and Ron attacking Sam, who was protecting a first year called Neville Longbottom. I somehow set up a omni-directional shield to stop anyone from interfering or from getting injured." Harry noted the look of awe on the Diminutive professor's face, as he marvelled at the fact that a third year had the ability to cast such a powerful and complex shield. After Harry cut off, Flitwick waited a few seconds for him to compose himself before pushing him to continue.

"Before I could do anything more, Alfred shot a powerful spell at Sam and - oh, Merlin - sent knocked her down and her head hit the stone floor." At this, Harry's voice choked and he buried his face in his hands, a position that he stayed in for a good few minutes. Instinctively, Flitwick laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, and waited for him to compose himself, impatiently brushing away the glistening tears that had fallen onto his face. "When that happened I kind of, _snapped." _At this point, Harry paused as he struggled to put what he said into words. "All of my anger, and hatred, and outrage...Sort of swelled up inside of me and this - this golden light covered me. I was just _so ANGRY,_ and I ended up throwing them across the shield before knocking them out. What happened after is a bit hazy, but I know I destroyed the barrier and altered everyone's memory of what they saw. I'm not sure why, but afterwards I collapsed and couldn't get up. It was as if all of the exhaustion and stress from the last few weeks overwhelmed me and pushed me into a coma. After that, nothing."

"I see," Flitwick finally said, when it soon became clear that Harry had nothing more to say. He sensed that there was something more that Harry wasn't telling him, but Harry was clearly not in the right emotional state for invasive questions of that nature. "Thank you for telling me this, Harry. From an experienced wizard, I believe you're right when you say that you think your emotions and physical exhaustion knocked you into a coma. Our emotions power our magic and different emotions give us varying levels of power, that much is true. However, it is not without its risks. Sometimes, the power unleashed from our emotions can overwhelm our bodies, particularly if we're handicapped in any way, be it from exhaustion or from malnutrition. It's especially common among younger wizards, such as yourself, because your magical core is fluctuating and can't support such a consistent flow of power." Rubbing his chin, Flitwick silently thought over what he'd been told.

"Still, this golden light I've never heard of, and being able to perform such a powerful and complex spell as the 360 degrees shield charm that you described...It's almost unheard of for someone your age. That charm usually takes several years of practice and can not be started until you're around 16. I know of only 4 wizards who've had the ability to cast such powerful spells at such a young age." Sighing, the charms professor stood and pushed in his chair. As he made to leave, however, he was stopped by the anxious teenager.

"Professor, I have a favour to ask," Harry answered, mentally praying that Flitwick would hear him out. At the professor's nod, he relaxed. "I want to know what happened the night that Voldemort attack Godric's Hollow." At this, Flitwick looked incredulously at him.

"Harry, no one save for You-Know-Who knows what happened that night. As you can't exactly talk to him, I'm afraid I can't help yo-." He was cut off by Harry's raised hand.

"Hear me out. I've heard of a technique to recall lost or repressed memories. It's the opposite of occlumency, and it requires another person to carry it out, as well as one whom the target trusts. It can't just be a random person." Sighing, Flitwick looked at Harry with pity.

"I'm truly sorry, Harry. I've never heard of any technique like that, be it magical or not. I'm afraid I can't help you. Perhaps it's best that you let go of that desire and concentrate on the present. Revisiting the past rarely bodes well for the future. "Yet as he reached the door, a thought occurred to the short charms master, and he turned back to face the disheartened boy.

"Harry, if you truly wish to attempt this, I recommend you speak to Professor Snape. He's somewhat of an expert in the mind arts." This compromise had an immediate impact on Harry, whose face brightened up the the suggestion.

"Thank you, sir," he bowed his head in the charms teacher's direction. "You won't tell the Headmaster about what we talked about, will you?" He almost pleaded, the anxiety on his face making the professor's heart tighten up.

"If you really don't want me to, no, I won't," he assured the Potter child, smiling kindly. "Judging from what you've told me tonight, I can understand why you don't want him to find out." Turning back towards the door, he stopped in front of it, frowning. Harry noticed his expression quickly.

"What is it, professor?" He asked. Shaking his head, Flitwick smiled at Harry reassuringly, not wishing to worry the poor boy even more.

"It's not important, I just thought I'd closed this door after I entered. My mistake. Goodnight, Mr Potter. Make sure you actually sleep this time," he joked, his heart lifting at the sight of the poor boy's weak smile. Until he knew the whole truth, he could not help Harry to fully recover from the obvious mental trauma he'd suffer. But that did not mean that he couldn't help him. And with that thought in mind, Flitwick left the room in high spirits. As a relieved Harry followed his example, he mused over the risks of approaching the Potions master for help, and how the door of the classroom had opened after he distinctly remembered Flitwick closing it. Dismissing his fears as mere paranoia, he stretched slowly before climbing the steps of the staircases, on route to the Ravenclaw common room, feeling relieved at the thought that he finally had someone he could confide him. 'I'll tell him the rest in time, but not yet,' Harry reflected as he climbed into his bed.

'Enough secrets have been spilt today.'

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**That's all for now. Sorry if it was shorter than you were expecting, I've had very little time to write it. Please review with what you thought and please take part in the survey on my profile. It's important for those who want Harry to have a love interest later in the story.**

**Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you all!**

**Cheerio!**


	16. Chapter 16: The Chamber

**Hey everyone! This is just a filler chapter for now, so that I can move on with the story. I'm truly sorry for the wait, my exams are going on and this is the only opportunity for me to upload a chapter.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter. Enjoy and please review with what you think!**

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Chapter 16: The Chamber

Sunday arrived bright and early, yet Harry was already sitting in the Great Hall as bleary-eyed students trickled in through the open doors, spooning porridge into his mouth as he read the Daily Prophet, its headline exclaiming, "The Chamber opens once more?". According to the paper, early last night a boy in the first year called Colin Creevey was found immobile yet still alive in the castle. According to the paper, it was not the first case, as Finch's cat was also petrified a few months beforehand, while Nearly Headless Nick was found in the same condition.

Laying the paper aside, Harry could not help but feel guilty. If he'd left that classroom and taken a slightly different route, then..Then maybe this would never have happened. Sighing, he folded the paper and placed it in his pocket, just as Alex collapsed onto the bench next to him and blearily seized a slice of toast, his brown hair sticking up in all directions. Clumsily piling bacon and eggs onto his plate, he finally noticed Harry was watching him, a slight smile on his face.

"What?" Alex asked defensively, his words coming out muffled by the bread. "I'm starving".

"Oh, nothing at all", Harry replied, smirking as he indicated Alex's pineapple hairstyle. As Alex finally swallowed and futilely tried to flatten his hair, he missed Harry's confused expression as he looked for his brother at the Gryffindor table. Despite his distaste for his brother, it was not like him to miss breakfast. Noticing Harry's expression, Alex realised that he hadn't heard the news.

"Your brother's in the hospital wing. A nutty bludger hit him and broke his arm, then Lockhart tried to fix his arm and ended up removing all of its bones", he explained, paying careful attention to his eggs and bacon. As he finished his plate, he noticed that Harry was unusually quiet. Turning to face him, he glared at the empty spot where Harry had previously been sitting.

"I HATE IT when he does that", he muttered, looking around.

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The second floor seemed surprisingly normal, considering what had transpired there last Halloween. Aside from a few curious looks at the wet floor nearby and the inflamed red words, "the chamber has been opened. Enemies of the heir...Beware", everyone who passed seemed to dismiss it as just a common occurrence in the castle. Inspecting the words closely, he could tell that it was some kind of enchanted paint, as no matter the spell Harry cast, it couldn't be removed. Closing his eyes, he tried to track the magical signature that he could sense had cast the spell, opening his eyes to see a glowing gold trail leading towards the second floor's bathroom. Gingerly pushing open the door, he cast out his senses to check for inhabitants. After confirming that no one was inside, he moved towards the sink where the trail ended, his feet making splashes on the soaked floor tiles. Stopping in front of the sink, he tried twisting the taps from side to side, looking for a hidden entrance. Finding none, he eventually gave up, frustrated.

"What are you doing in MY bathroom?" A shrill voice exclaimed, causing Harry to spin in surprise, his wand flying into his hand. Swinging his head wildly from side to side in search of the speaker, he cast a invisible shield around himself, in case of an attack. When no attack came, he lowered his wand and dismissed the shield, approaching the direction from which the sound came from. Shoving open the door, he sprang back and levelled his wand at the occupant, before lowering it in astonishment at the ghost inside.

It was the ghost of a teenage girl. Wearing glasses and with mousy brown hair in pigtails, the snivelling girl glared through transparent tears at the shocked Potter, who immediately slipped his wand back into his pocket.

"Who are you?" Harry asked curiously, before taking a cautious step back as the girl burst into angry wails.

"Oh, no one knows Moaning Myrtle. Stupid Myrtle, ugly Myrtle, DEAD Myrtle!" She screeched, drawing herself up to her full yet short stature.

"Uhhh, right. Do you know what happened with Mrs Norris last Halloween?"

"No. How would I? I was too busy crying after Peeves insulted me!" She sobbed, resuming her echoing wailing. Before Harry could stop her, she flung herself down the toilet, forcing up a tidal wave that nearly drowned Harry as her wailing soon became an inaudible gargling noise. Sighing, Harry cast a quick heat charm on himself to dry his clothes. As he turned to leave, he noticed a sodden black diary lying on the floor of the bathroom. Bending to pick it up, he regarded it curiously, as he pushed open the bathroom's door and left.

Little did Harry know that a hooded figure stood in the shadows of the bathroom, her crimson eyes glinting with malevolent fire as she watched the boy leaving. For a moment, she contemplated killing him.

"Yes...", the voice in her head whispered gently, soothing her fire with dark tendrils of darkness. "It is the time. He will die, my dear." Smiling coldly, the figure pushed back her hood, revealing a shocking head of ginger hair.

"Yes", Ginny seemingly assured herself. "It's okay, Ginny. He'll die soon. They all will." With her crimson eyes and a smile so cold that it could freeze an ocean, she approached the tap that mere moments ago Harry had futilely tugged at. Hissing in an unknown language, the very sink sank into the ground, revealing giant yellow eyes that glinted in the darkness.

"It's time", the voice whispered to Ginny, its soothing voice filling her with such pleasurable happiness as she stepped aside, watching the enormous snake slither across the bathroom's floor, hissing with malevolent intent. Dropping the evil smile, Ginny hissed one command at the monster.

"Kill Harry Potter".

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**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and please review with your thoughts about this chapter. The next chapter won't be uploaded for a few weeks because I have my exams, but I promise it will be a good one, and it will also be longer (with some action).**

**Cheerio!**


	17. Chapter 17: Snakes, statues and siblings

Hello, and welcome to chapter 17! I'm SO sorry about the long wait, but my exams are over so I'm hoping to get more chapters out in the coming weeks.

Just a heads-up; I'm changing a few of the details from the books.

Enjoy and please tell me what you thought!

Chapter 17: Snakes, statues and siblings

"It's time", the voice whispered to Ginny, its soothing voice filling her with such pleasurable happiness as she stepped aside, watching the enormous snake slither across the bathroom's floor, hissing with malevolent intent. Dropping the evil smile, Ginny hissed one command at the monster.  
"Kill Harry Potter".

Harry made his way back to Ravenclaw tower, his footsteps echoing in the deserted western corridor. As he turned the black diary over in his hands, he realise that it was completely blank. There was no name, no title, nothing. Frowning in deep thought, he tucked the book securely into his robe pocket. As he stood outside Ravenclaw tower, he waited patiently as the eagle knocker regarded him impassively.

"What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?". Smiling in interest at what he believed was a challenging question, Harry became lost in thought, only to be startled out of his reverie by a loud smash from the corridor he had just passed through. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he cautiously walked into the corridor, only to lower it almost immediately at the sight of a bushy haired girl, who stood with her back to him. Walking over to her, he cleared his throat.  
"What was that banging noise?", he asked. However, the girl did not respond. Tapping her on the shoulder, he barely caught her as she toppled backwards, and as he lowered her to the floor, he realised that where she had been standing there was a small circle of broken glass. Gazing curiously at the girl, he realised with a sudden shock that she was Hermione Granger, one of Alfred's friends. Looking around him, he noticed another second year girl - Penelope Clearwater, he realised with a shock - lying in a crumpled heap a short distance away. As he knelt next to her prone body, he cast out his senses to check for danger. Placing his hand on the side of her neck as he checked for a pulse, he realised that she was as cold as stone, as if she was indeed stone. Placing a hand on her forehead, he sent out a wave of magic, to check what was wrong with her. As he knelt there pondering what had happened, the invisible danger net he'd set up vibrated slightly - allowing him to dive to the side as a giant figure, blurred in motion, crashed into the place where he had just been. Backing away, he raised his wand as he prepared to attack...Until he realised that the figure wasn't human at all. A huge body easily surpassing 10 feet tall, the light from the corridor's torches danced off its scaled, glittering body. Before he could get a proper look at it head-on, it pulled itself up so that its gigantic head brushed the ceiling of the corridor, while its thick, armoured form coiled and uncoiled in palpable rage.

Once more, the giant head snapped forwards, yet this time Harry did not dodge as quickly. As he dived to the side, the snake's tail slammed against his shoulder, sending him flying into the wall and knocking his wand out of his hand. As Harry tried to see past the countless stars filling his vision, he realised that the snake had slithered within touching distance. Desperately drawing upon his magic, he unleashed it all in the snake's direction, closing his eyes against the tempest that he knew would spring forth. Suddenly, before Harry could even open his eyes, a terrible pain caused his body to convulse, as if hot knives were being driven through his body. As the pain caused him to scream in agony, he watched in horrified astonishment as a single bolt of yellow lightning struck the snake. However, as Harry could only watch in horror, the lightning rebounded off of the thick scales of the snake, part of which reflected onto him, sending him into an agonising spasm. Slumping to the floor of the corridor. Far from hurting the monster, the lightning seemed to only irritate the snake, which roared in pure fury. Suddenly, every torch in the corridor went out, plunging Harry into suffocating darkness. Exhausted both magically and physically, Harry could only close his eyes, as he waited for the sensation of teeth on his flesh, and the tortuous pain that would cast him out of this world.

After a few minutes, Harry realised that he wasn't dead. Pulling himself shakily to his feet, he pinched himself, checked his pulse, even slapped himself to be sure. No, he was definitely alive. Picking up his wand, he slowly stumbled down the corridor towards the Ravenclaw tower, smacking into walls and tripping over the bodies of the petrified girls. Just as he reached the end of the corridor, the sound of running footsteps behind him caused him to stop and raise his wand, only to realise that at the moment he couldn't even lift an insect with his magic. Sliding to the floor, he stirred in surprise as Dumbledore, Snape and Mcgonagall burst into the corridor, their wands lit so brightly it was like staring into the heart of a star.

As the three professors took in the scene, Harry stirred, struggling to his feet before collapsing again. This sudden movement caught the professors' attention, and Snape and Mcgonagall warily pointed their wands at him while Dumbledore knelt in front of him, all traces of the gentleness that he had seen on his face had vanished to be replaced by an expression as hard and unyielding as stone. At this point, though Harry would never admit to it, this old man frightened him.

"Harry, what happened here?" Dumbledore asked in a harsh voice, his eyes lacking their usual twinkle. Painfully raising his head, the eldest Potter tried to speak, but what he said was lost in a fierce bout of coughing, leading to flecks of blood flying from his mouth. Through the ringing in his ears, Harry could hear the professors talking about him. Drawing on the last vestiges of his magic, he dispelled the ringing to the point that he could make out what they were saying.

"-Haustion. He must be behind this, to exhaust himself to this degree". That was Snape.

"Severus, no third year is capable of this!" Mcgonagall exclaimed.

"You haven't seen what I have seen, Minerva", Snape replied darkly."With dark magic, anything is possible if the caster's heart is dark enough."

"No.", Dumbledore spoke at last, his tone brooking no argument. "Petrification of this kind is beyond anything any wizard, including myself, is capable of. Right now, that child may die if he does not get to the hospital wing. Take these other two there immediately. I will attend to Mr Potter." As The conversation ceased, Harry felt arms lifting him before the sound of footsteps died away as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Before he knew it, he was sitting in Dumbledore's office with a cup of hot chocolate in his hands and the elderly wizard casting spells on him, before sitting across from Harry, regarding him in silence for a long time. Eventually, Harry grew tired of this staring and looked around the office. It was virtually unchanged from last year, except for a golden perch upon which a beautiful red bird with gold trims slept, its plumage lighting up the room. As he stared in awe, it opened its eyes and began to sing, its voice being the sound of fire and water, life and death, thunder and lightning. Awestruck by this beautiful creature, he jumped as a small cough emerged from beside him. Turning back to Dumbledore, he was startled to see the headmaster regarding him with a wry smile.

"Your brother had the exact same expression on his voice when he first saw Fawkes", Dumbledore commented, before laughing as Harry's rare smile turned back into a sullen scowl.

"Come Harry, do not be so glum. There are far worse people to be compared to", Dumbledore assured him, retaining his amused smile.

"I didn't hurt those girls", Harry replied, knowing that this was the reason why Dumbledore had brought him here and wishing to get straight to the point.

"I know, Harry", Dumbledore replied, his face becoming grim. "I already know exactly what happened, and I'm impressed." As Harry raised his eyebrow at the headmaster in confusion, Dumbledore smiled slightly.

"Harry, please do not play ignorant with me. I know what happened last year between you, Ronald and Albert, and I know what happened in that corridor earlier tonight. Come now", he admonished the surprised Harry. "Surely you did not believe that you could fool everyone for long? Your occlumency defences, while formidable, are no match for one as experienced as I. You've drawn a lot of attention to yourself in the past two years, Harry. Barely staying awake in your classes, knocking out dozens of students and rewriting their memories of the event, giving your brother enough power to boost the defences I gave him enough to defeat Quirrell, and now your fight with the basilik in the west wing."

At this point, Dumbledore reclined in his chair as he watched the eldest Potter child's reaction, which went from surprise to embarrassment to utter fear, as all of his carefully placed lies came apart. Smiling gently, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to calm down.

"Calm yourself, Harry. I have known about your past exploits for the last year and have not done anything. In fact, I have been content to simply observe your progress. You have such incredible potential, but no control. Your last full-blown usage nearly killed you, and I can not risk your doing so again. Therefore, the block on your magic shall remain in place until-"

"Wait, what block?" Harry interrupted, his expression becoming intense. Sighing, Dumbledore wearily rubbed his eyes, and for the first time it dawned on Harry how old Dumbledore was, how much pain and suffering he must have endured...Harry's musings were interrupted by Dumbledore's voice.

"After your skirmish with Alfred and Ronald last year, I believed that it was too dangerous for you to be able to tap into that much power. A second year tapping into the power of someone almost twice his age? It would eventually destroy you. While you slept in the hospital wing, I implemented mental blocks on you. These blocks reduce the amount of power that you can tap into and hinder your magical development until your body has adapted to the raw power that you command, and can only be removed by me."

"And these 'blocks' were what nearly got me killed today by my OWN magic?" Harry spat out, rising from his seat.

"I underestimated your power. You seem to have an uncanny affinity for lightning, and my mental blocks failed to factor in elemental power. When you tried to attack the basilik, your magic and my own came into conflict, with you caught in the middle. If you hadn't released the spell, you would have been destroyed. Harry, please understand, that it was for your own go-"

"Don't you dare", Harry yelled, pushing aside his chair. "Don't you DARE try to justify what you did as being for the 'greater good'. Was it for the greater good that I was left starving and nearly dead on the floor of my own home, as my parents and brother went out to a theme park?" Harry's voice slowly began to rise, and several objects in the room shook slightly. "Was it for the greater good that my own parents couldn't stand the sight of me, all because their precious little Alfred survived a killing mistake by chance? Was it for the greater good that for the past 12 years of my life, I've been scavenging to survive, stealing clothes, food and money just to survive? WAS IT?" At this point, the objects that had been shaking were blown into the air, spinning around in the air. Turning from the headmaster, whose face had gone completely white, he tried to open the office door, only to find it locked. Turning back to Dumbledore, he pointed at the door, breathing heavily.

"Let me out", he demanded.

"No, not until I am done", Dumbledore replied.

"I don't-I-I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY", Harry roared, pulling his wand out and pointing it at the headmaster, only for it to fly from his grasp to land in the wizard's hand.

"Harry, even before I limited your power you couldn't have hoped to defeat me. Now, since you won't listen to me do one thing for me, and you can go". Harry, seething with rage, spat out something resembling "fine".

"Stop this little display that you've created, and you can go", Dumbledore requested.

"That's all?" Harry asked.

"That's all". Considering this request, Harry reached out with his power, commanding the items to land. They continued to spin. Again, Harry commanded them to land, this time with more power, only for them to ignore him and spin faster. Turning to Dumbledore, the headmaster gestured, causing the objects to land gently on the desk.

"You can not control your power", Dumbledore commented grimly. "Now, are you ready to listen to me?" Harry, shaken by his powerlessness, nodded.

"I want to implement stronger wards around your magic. This will allow you to use your magic to its fullest based on the level that it should be right now. I'll even allow you to be slightly more powerful than you should be at 13. Every year, the ward will unlock, allowing you to use more of your power until you can access all of it at 17, at which point your magical potential will accumulate, granting the power that you would otherwise have access to if you hadn't already surpassed it. It will also prevent any cases like that which occurred today, so you don't have to worry about your magic backfiring. Do you accept?" Harry, turning this over in his mind, eventually nodded.

As Harry prepared to leave, Dumbledore stopped him.

"Harry, be very careful. Under no circumstances should you go looking for that basilik, understood?" Harry nodded, before pushing open the door and walking outside.

The next day, as Harry sat down for breakfast, Amy slid up next to him.

"Harry, have you heard anything from your brother?" Amy asked, biting her lip. Turning to her, Harry frowned in confusion.

"No, why? What's happened?"

"Well, since Hermione was attacked and the duelling contest, he hasn't been seen since. I think something's happened to him."

"Why? What happened in the-?"

"Oi, Potter!" Turning to face the person who shouted, he noticed a blond boy with a face like a rat and two other second years marching towards him. Standing, he waited for them to reach him.

"Where's your brother? Off talking to his snake friends?" The blonde sneered. Raising an eyebrow, Harry ignored him and pushed past, walking slowly away from the student.

"Don't you turn your back on me, Potter!" Sighing, Harry turned to face the cretin.

"I asked you a question, Potter. Answer me!" The blond yelled, his face growing steadily redder. Smiling grimly at the other two, he turned back to the blond.

"If you're looking for a fight, you're going to need more flunkeys".

"Goyle, Crabbe, show him why he shouldn't ignore me". Immediately, Crabbe threw a punch at the amused Potter, though in the time it took to reach him he could have gone back into the great hall and eaten his breakfast. Pushing it to the side with the back of his hand, he thrust his palm into the goon's nose, before stepping sideways as Goyle charged him and Crabbe collapsed. Sticking out his foot, Harry tripped the boy, stunning him for the few seconds it took him to dodge the curse that the blond directed at him. As the boy fired another, Harry seized the dazed Goyle and shoved him into the curse's path. With all but one of his opponents down, Harry pulled out his wand, quickly disarmed the blond and delivered a vicious backhand to the boy's face, leaving the boy to stagger away, barely holding back tears. Turning back to the great hall, he took in Amy leaning against one of the walls, an amused expression on her face.

"You just can't back down from a fight, can you?" She tutted, smiling. Harry returned her smile.

"Nope, but we all know you love me for it", he replied, winking at her.

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter", she responded, smirking.

"What did he mean about Alfred talking to snakes?" Harry asked, confused.

"The same rumours about you, except he literally talked to a snake and stopped it from killing a second year".

"About me?" Harry was bewildered.

"Yes. Apparently, you petrified two students in the west wing. Yes, I know it's not true, but people here will believe anything."

"Wait, Alfred has been speaking to snakes? And hasn't been seen since?" Harry asked, a terrible thought arising in his head.

"Yes, why? Harry, is something wrong?" Amy asked, grabbing Harry's hand as he turned to run. Smiling at her, Harry shook his head before darting up the stairs, towards Ravenclaw tower. Amy watched him until he disappeared around the corner, before sighing and turning away. 'He's hiding something again', she thought. 'I don't know what it is, but I will find out'.

Arriving at his dorm, Harry dug through his bag to confirm his suspicions. The diary was gone, and that means that there was something going on in that bathroom, as no one saw him pick it up… Or someone was powerful enough to hide themselves from even him.

The dark silence of the chamber was broken by the sound of moving stone, as a hooded figure hurried along the eerie green stones, its footsteps echoing ominously in the vast cavern. The hooded figure wasted no time, placing the diary on the ground and kneeling in front of it, directly below the giant statue of Salazer Slytherin. Turning at the sound of approaching footsteps, the figure smiled and pushed back her hood, revealing the ginger hair of Ginny Weasley. Smiling, she closed her eyes in joy as warm fingers touched her left cheek. Opening her eyes, Ginny smiled at the owner of the fingers.

"Is it done?" The figure asked gently, smiling warmly at the girl, who nodded furiously.

"Yes, it came as you said it would. Can we be together now?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Yes, Ginny. Just a little longer." With this, the blurred figure placed a finger on Ginny's forehead, from which a small circle of purple light formed upon.

Smiling cruelly, the figure opened the book, watching in vicious glee as a stream of white light flowed from Ginny into the diary, and from the diary black light flowed into the figure, who came into focus as he gained more power.

'Yes", Tom thought as he withdrew into the shadows. 'Potter will come, and he will either join me or die'.

**And that's it! Once more, I'm sorry about the long wait, but I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it.**

**Next chapter: What will happen when Harry learns that one of his closest friends is his ultimate enemy? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Please review and let me know what you thought! Pretty please?**

**Cheerio!**


	18. Chapter 18: The Chamber of Secrets

**Hello and welcome to chapter 18 of The Lost Child! You'll be pleased to hear that this chapter is even longer than the last one, and I've done my best to make it as long and as action-packed as possible.**

**I also have a big announcement. As many of you already know, I introduced a new villain in the first few chapters. Well, I'm going to be removing this new antagonist. Looking back, I think that the chapters with him/her in it are poorly written. Therefore, over the next few days I'll be re-writing those chapters and removing those parts with it in and replacing it with something else, if I can. Therefore, I recommend going back and re-reading the story once it has been completely updated, which I will announce on my profile, so keep an eye out.**

**Enjoy and if you did, feel free to leave a review. I like to hear what you think of the chapters, your potential story ideas, even your criticism. All helpful/constructive or positive reviews are welcome!**

**Anyway, enough from me. On with the chapter!**

Chapter 18: The Chamber

The castle was eerily quiet at 6 AM on Sundays, Harry couldn't help reflecting, as he strolled through the empty corridors towards the headmaster's office. Despite his near death experience last time there was utter silence in the castle, Harry couldn't help but feel at peace. Over the last few weeks, even before he was attacked on Friday, people had begun whispering about him, thinking that being the brother of the 'heir of Slytherin' somehow meant that he was just as guilty. The upcoming attacks hadn't helped either. Just yesterday, when he'd been relaxing by the lake after a hard day of studying, a group of gryffindors had begun to start on him. Fortunately, Alex, Sam and Amy backed him up, otherwise Harry didn't think that he'd be able to get out of it unscathed. Afterwards, Alex explained to Harry that a lot of students were talking about attacking him, believing that he'd framed Alfred and was the real heir. It was a relief when Dumbledore sent him a message, delivered by a trembling first year who scampered away the moment Harry took the parchment, requesting that Harry come to his office at 5 past 6 in the morning.

Sighing, Harry rubbed his eyes in exasperation. Sometimes, he wondered why he stayed at the school. He was a danger to everyone around him, and he had to hide secrets from even his friends. Most of the teachers were either corrupt or disliked him, and the students...The students were like mindless sheep, believing mindless gossip as if it was the truth.

Opening his eyes, Harry realised that he was right outside Dumbledore's office. Giving the password (the headmaster seemed to have an obsession with sweets), he climbed the long stone steps to his office door, before pushing open the door without knocking...Only to stop dead in his tracks in surprise when he saw Dumbledore packing up some books and magical items. Raising his head, the elderly wizard smiled with genuine warmth at the Potter child, who raised an eyebrow to indicate that an explanation was necessary.

"Ah, Harry. Thank you for coming on such short notice", Dumbledore greeted the younger wizard. "I just wanted to let you know that I have not been sitting idle. I've requested a flock of roosters from the Ministry, which should be arriving within the next few days." Harry nodded distractedly, piecing together why Dumbledore called him.

"You're leaving?" Harry asked, shocked. At this, Dumbledore sighed, and the twinkle in his eyes dimmed.

"The Ministry of Magic has demanded my resignation pending an enquiry into my actions. I assure you, it is only temporary."

"But you can't leave!" Harry burst out. "You're the only one who can stop this. If you leave-"

"I said as much to the Minister. Alas, Cornelius can be very stubborn. Harry, this is important." At this point, Dumbledore's voice grew urgent. "I do not want you to chase after that basilisk. Leave that for the professors. However, help out in any way you can. Support Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, or Professor Sprout in synthesising the cure for petrification. Do whatever you can to help. Understand?" Harry nodded. "Good". At this point there was a cough behind Harry, and Harry turned to acknowledge a tall dark-skinned man.

"Mr Dumbledore, it's time", the auror announced.

"Thank you, Kingsley", Dumbledore smiled, and as he passed Harry he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Remember what I said" were his parting words, before the door shut behind him, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark room. In the distance, Harry could not be sure, but he heard the mournful cry of a phoenix, mirroring Harry's thoughts exactly.

"WHAT?" Harry winced as Alex sprang to his feet, scattering toast and plates everywhere and drawing every eye to their table.

"Alex! Everyone's looking at you, you twit!" Amy hissed, grabbing the sheepish boy by the wrist and yanking him back down to the table, while Sam and Harry hurriedly picked up plates and toast from the ground.

News of Dumbledore's forced resignation had travelled fast. The senior students and teachers tried to keep order, but their pale faces betrayed their fear. Most simply looked confused, but some understood what was happening and just sat stunned on their benches. Some had to be giving calming potions, when they burst into fits of crying every few seconds.

"Well, that's it", Alex whispered, blushing as eyes slowly turned away from him. "We're stuffed. Without Dumbledore, there's no way we can stop that basilisk." Much as he hated to admit it, Harry was forced to agree. No matter his anger at Dumbledore's belief that he had the right to make decisions for him, he couldn't think of anyone better suited to stopping the attacks. Glancing at Sam and Amy, he saw that they thought the same thing. Glumly glancing at the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed once more that Alfred was still missing. Even in his despair, Harry couldn't help but feel a faint sense of worry. As much as he hated his brother and wanted to see him suffer, he didn't want him dead. Closing his eyes, Harry drew upon his magic, commanding it to find Alfred's magical trail in the chaotic whirlwind of people moving to and fro throughout the castle. There! Through his magic, Harry saw a golden trail illuminated in the mishmash of shades that swirled behind him. Opening his eyes, he saw a golden trail leading out of the great hall and up the stairs, towards a higher point in the castle. Standing, he made a half-hearted joke to his friends about the food and needing the toilet, before almost running out of the hall.

"Harry, wait!" Slowing to a stop, Harry turned to face Sam, breathless from running and with her glasses slightly skewered on her face. As she caught up to him, Harry began walking again.

"You know where Alfred is, don't you?" Sam asked, surprising Harry and causing him to slip on the stone floor of the second floor corridor.

"How did you-?" Harry asked, slightly shaken. Smiling, Sam turned to Harry.

"Hmm, let's think. First you look at the space where your brother usually sits, then you basically run out of the hall. Oh, and you are a TERRIBLE liar. By the way, do watch where you're going." Blinking, Harry realised that he'd almost walked into the wall of Myrtle's bathroom. Looking down at the ground, he noticed that the trail seemed to pass through the taps in the middle of the bathroom, as if they had somehow passed through the sink… Beckoning to Sam to follow him, Harry pointed at the sink.

"The trail ends here", he announced. "I can track people by their magical trails", he explained to Sam distractedly, who was staring at him quizzically. Running his hand along the smooth ceramic, Harry noticed the sink had a snake carved into it. "I'm going to need your help. We need to blast a hole in the sink, and I need your help to do it". Sam nodded.

"Well, let's do it then", Sam exclaimed. "How do you suggest we combine our spells?" By way of answer, Harry reached out with his mind to gently brush Sam's. Imagining his and her magic like a coil of rope, Harry joined his to her. Pointing his wand at the sink, Harry cried out, "reducto!"

At once, the sink exploded in a wave of ceramic and metal. Hastily shielding himself and Sam, Harry bent forward to peer into the hole, which descended into the deep darkness below. Sam shortly after joined him.

"It's some kind of hidden chute", Sam commented. Harry didn't answer, instead he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the trail. Turning to Sam, he gestured towards the pipe.

"I'll go first. If it's clear, I'll signal", Harry explained to Sam, who didn't seem impressed.

"Fine, but I expect you to explain how you're able to do all of this magic", she replied, giving him a glare that he'd come to call 'the Sam look'. Smiling brightly, Harry swung his legs into the shaft and, after a moment's hesitation, pushed himself down the shaft.

For a moment, it was as if Harry was suspended in mid-air. Then, he began to descend at speeds so vast that he was disorientated after only a few seconds. Pulling his legs and arms in tightly, he grimanced as his hands came away covered in a slimy substance. Suddenly, before Harry could so much as yell in surprise, the chute ended, sending him flying across the cavern to land in an undignified heap against a wall. Groaning, Harry sent a pulse of magic towards the chute, and as he waited for Sam to join he ignited his wand, holding it up so that he could take in his surroundings.

In the pale wand light, the walls around him glowed a ghostly white colour. The shiny surface of the floor reflected the light so fully that it was as if Harry had walked into the sun. At the sound of movement, Harry turned, only to be knocked to the floor as Sam collided with him.

"You know, it's almost as if we're not supposed to be here", Harry muttered, brushing himself off before offering a hand to Sam to help her up.

"Is this the chamber?" Sam asked, casting a wary look around.

"Let's find out", Harry replied, warily pushing past the columns of the cavern, towards the trail and what he hoped was a living person.

They had barely walked for a minute when they reached a huge wall of rock. Placing a hand on the rock, Harry summoned his power, sending forth a burst of focused air, determined to blast a hole in the wall. For a moment, there was a tremor, as if the wall was fighting itself, before a large rock was knocked away from the wall, to hit the ground with an ominous boom. As Harry gathered his power for another try, suddenly he was sent sprawling, a vicious pain throbbing around his left ear. Struggling to his feet, he saw through his blurred vision another fist flying towards his face. Stumbling out of the way, Harry fell to the ground, and the sight of orange hair filled his vision while blood filled his mouth. Stunned, Harry heard Sam shout from what seemed like miles away, and suddenly the redhead vanished from his vision. Groaning, Harry struggled to his feet, swaying slightly before casting a mild healing charm on himself, that allowed him to see clearly at least. Turning to his petrified attacker, he realised that it was Ron Weasley, and looking past him he saw Professor Lockhart, who was currently humming what sounded to Harry like 'Barbie World'.

"Why the hell did you attack me, you idiot?" Harry shouted at Ron, whose face was slowly growing redder. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm here to help, not to fight.

"I can't budge it", Harry informed Sam, turning to her. "It would take more than just us to move that wall".

"We have more", Sam replied, nodding at Lockhart and Ron. Turning from them to her and back again, Harry couldn't tell whether she was being serious or not.

"Really? I don't think they're powerful enough to move a pebble between them".

"Ah, pebbles", Lockhart interrupted. "Bad for the teeth, and very crunchy".

"_Anyway,_ we don't have much choice, Harry", Sam replied patiently. "If we want to save your brother…"

"But work with THEM?" Harry exclaimed, gesturing sardonically at Lockhart and Ron.

"Harry…" Sam growled, losing her patience. Holding up his hands in an "alright" gesture, Harry gently spread out his magic, linking it to the other 3 magic users in the room. Struggling to maintain the overwhelming connection, Harry drew the combined magical ability of the four, sending a wave of magic forth, which was so powerful that the rocks near the bottom turned to dust. Reaching out with his power, Harry halted the rockfall, his abilities stretched to their limit.

"When I run through, you all need to run towards the cavern entrance", Harry panted. "You'll be safe from any falling rocks there". As the other three nodded, Harry used his leftover power to blast through the narrow gap just as the rock wall began to collapse, sealing him off from the outside world.

For a minute, Harry was content to just lay on the hard rock floor, allowing his aching head to slowly return to normal. Harry had never split his concentration that much before, and it was almost as if his mind had been on the verge of snapping.

As his head stopped hurting, Harry raised his head to take in the huge circular door fashioned in the image of a snake in front of him, with cold steel so thick it looked as if it could resist a nuclear explosion. Suddenly, without warning, the lightning scar on Harry's head felt as if it was splitting open, and a strange force acted on Harry's tongue, forcing him to make strange snake noises that he could not have hoped to replicate under normal circumstances. Immediately, a loud clanging sound emanated from the door, and the huge door swung open on creaking hinges. Lighting his wand, Harry pushed further into the chamber, ignoring the growing feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

As Harry entered the chamber, his first thought was about its huge size. Glowing green stones glittered far above his head, while the ends of the chamber were enveloped in darkness. Across the walkway, giant statues of serpents overshadowed the path, and as Harry approached they appeared to hiss at his trespassing. Was it Harry's imagination, or was something watching him? Smelling him? Hunting him? Shuddering involuntarily, Harry noticed the prone form on the floor in front of the giant statue of Salazer's face. Quickening his pace, as he neared the end of the path he heard someone speaking, as well as a queer choking sound. Bending to confirm that the ginger girl had a pulse, Harry rounded the corner from which he heard the voices, but nothing could prepare him for the sight that awaited him.

Alfred was floating a few feet off the ground facing him, his face going a purple colour as his feet dangled helplessly. As Harry watched, the boy's struggling slowed, while his attacker cackled maniacally.

"Let him go!" Harry bellowed, gathering his power to send a bolt of golden lightning at the black haired teenager, who jolted in surprise.

"I said: Let. Him. Go", Harry repeated, lightning crackling between his outstretched fingers. After a short pause, as Alfred's eyes began to roll up in his head, the figure released him, where he fell to the ground coughing and spluttering. "Impressive, Harry", the familiar figure commented, his clapping sending echoes through the chamber. Masking his shock at the boy knowing who he was, Harry tightened his grip around his wand.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, yet his voice cracked, as if he already knew the answer. 'Please no…'

"Oh, but you know who I am, Harry. I was there all those years ago, when your life was decided by Albus Dumbledore. I was there in your most painful and despairing moments. I was there every time you cried for mummy and daddy to love you, as you lived in your brother's shadow your whole life. I was here when you started Hogwarts. Who am I? That's simple".

At this the figure turned, and shock so powerful that it caused him to drop his wand rushed through Harry's mind, as his whole world was turned upside down.

"Tom?" Harry choked out. Tom smiled, and green and crimson fire illuminated his eyes.

"How is that possible? You only met me when we started Hogwarts", Harry gasped, trying to regain his composure. Sighing, 'Tom' looked at Harry in exasperation.

"I thought you were intelligent, Harry. You know never did ask me what my surname was". With this, Tom raised Alfred's wand, forming blood red letters that spelt…

"Riddle? No, oh no no no!" Harry panicked, backing away from the smirking teenager who was really Harry's enemy.

"Yes, I am Voldemort. Ever since that night 13 years ago, a part of my soul was split between you and your pathetic brother. Your brother was too simple for me to feed from, but you? My my, such anguish! 'Why won't mummy and daddy love me?' 'I'm so hungry!' 'Why does everyone hate me?' You seem to believe that you are the master of your own darkness". At this, Tom laughed. "Fool! Your darkness _is _you, Harry. You so desperately cling to the embers of light inside of you against an ocean of darkness. Why? What has the light ever done for you? You hate the dark for ruining your life, but the dark didn't make your parents ignore you. It didn't starve you or leave you to fend for yourself. It didn't leave

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Harry struggled to speak, his doubts and fears rising anew.

"Simple: I'm here to help you. Join me, and you can have revenge on your parents for making your life a living hell, on Dumbledore for forgetting you, on your brother for tormenting you. I can offer you a home, a family, a chance at happiness. All you have to do is accept the darkness". Tom's words were like honey, lulling Harry into a internal war. Harry could not remember someone who..._Cared_ so much about him. In fact, Harry was about to accept the darkness, unlock the barriers he'd placed around darkness...If not for his friends. Suddenly, a rush of memories swarmed through his mind. Alex's face when he saw Hogwarts for the first time, Amy and Sam standing up for him when the Gryffindors tried to attack him, Sam trying to protect Neville from Alfred and Ron despite knowing that she might get hurt. Trusting his instincts, knowing that he probably wouldn't survive this day, Harry made his decision.

"Light, darkness, they're just terms to me. Neither you nor Dumbledore are the light and dark. The dark has never helped me. It's only ruined what little happiness I had. I am Harry Potter, I am not a servant of the dark. You wish for me to pick a side? Fine. I am of the light, and that is my choice. I am what I am, and I am done with people deciding my future for me."

For a few moments, there was silence, and Harry wondered if this was where he would die, in a forgotten chamber miles below the school, where his body would be left for the rats and other parasites to feast upon. Then, Tom laughed, a laugh so cold Harry felt as if someone had walked over his grave.

"Oh you young fool. You really believe that you can _choose_ to reject the darkness? Your darkness is part of you. What you want or choose is inconsequential, and it's time you accepted your true self".

Seizing Alfred, Tom turned to face Harry.

"I am going to kill Alfred", Tom explained. "I won't stop until he's dead, or I am. Choose; your hated brother, or your mortal enemy? CHOOSE!" As Harry watched in horror, Alfred's eyes snapped open, and he released a scream so piercing Harry felt as if a knive was being driven through his heart.

"Harry, please!" Alfred screamed, his body spasming as bloodied spit dribbled from his mouth.

"Please! Stop it!" Harry couldn't believe it, but he was actually _begging_ Voldemort to spare someone he hated.

"Never. You must choose!" Tom snarled, his fingers sending black lightning into Alfred's body. As Harry ran to pull Alfred away from Tom, a large bolt smacked into him, sending him flying across the room to smash painfully into one of the snake statues. Struggling to his feet, Harry felt as if he was being torn apart. He was being forced to choose between two lives, and the stress of it was threatening to plunge him into insanity.

"I can't do it. I can't choose!" Harry lamented bitterly. Yet as he watched his own brother being ripped apart by someone he once called friend, Harry knew he had no choice. Gathering his power, Harry rubbed his fingers together slowly at first, then so fast that his hands appeared as a blur. With a roar of pure anguish, Harry thrust his hands out releasing every last drop of power that he had in the form of a bolt of green lightning, which caught Tom dead center in the chest, sending him flying across the chamber to collide with the distant wall with a loud cracking sound.

Running to Tom's prone smoking form, as he pulled the boy's head into his lap, Harry couldn't help the tears from forming, trickling down his cheeks in a steady stream and dropping onto Tom's pained face.

"I'm so sorry", Harry sobbed, his voice cracking with grief. "I didn't want to hurt you like this". At this, Tom looked at him and smiled in such a way that it was as if they had stepped back two years, to when they had first met, when they had been drawn to each other by their shared personalities and secretive natures.

"You-You're finally free…", Tom whispered, his breathing slowing and then stopping, as he died in the arms of his weeping adversary. And, as the reality of what he'd done dawned on Harry, he let loose a scream of such grief that all who heard it felt Harry's grief as if it were their own. From the depths of the Hogwarts dungeons to the tallest tower, everyone heard Harry's scream of anger and grief, and shuddered.

As midnight dawned, many miles away in Potter mansion, Lily Potter awoke from a nightmare screaming Harry's name, seeing nothing but the memory of Harry, as a wave of darkness swallowed his faint light, hiding him from her view. At that moment, James Potter awoke from the same nightmare. At once, the two tightly held each other, frightened by their shared belief that something terrible had happened to their son, a son who despised them.

In a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, Albus Dumbledore sat in a battered red chair, tears dripping down his face as he realised what his lack of action and attention had wrought on the eldest Potter. Perched on a nearby stool, Fawkes crooned a mournful song as he shared his friend's pain, before taking flight into the black night.

And, hundreds of miles away, in a forest in Albania, in an area where even magical creatures feared to trespass, maniacal laughter could be heard, as He Who Must Not Be Named prepared to begin his final preparations for a war that would end with the Potters joining him, or dead at his feet.

**And that's it! That chapter was quite a bit longer than my last one, and I think it's my favourite to date. So, did anyone predict what would happen this chapter? ;)**

**Please feel free to review and let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, etc.**

**Next chapter: The end of the third year! Harry has to cope with murdering his best friend, and there may or may not be a family talk.**

**Until next time.**

**Cheerio!**


	19. Chapter 19: The aftermath

**Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter 19, which takes place shortly after the events of the last chapter. If you enjoyed, please review, as it helps me to improve.**

**Oh, and if you're wondering what happened to the Philosopher's Stone, read on. ;)**

Oh, one more thing: I'm contemplating on introducing a version of Merlin into the story. If you agree, please let me know in the reviews. I'm worried that it will turn out poorly, but I will let you all choose whether I add him or not. And no, he won't be the BBC's version (this isn't a crossover) but he will be immensely strong, probably stronger than both Dumbledore and Voldemort. My reasoning for this is that because he's considered the "prince of enchanters" then he must be incredibly strong. Personally, I always got the impression that he was stronger than either than them, though probably not together.

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 19: The aftermath

"You did what you had to, Harry". Harry didn't reply, clutching his cup of hot chocolate ever tighter, yet its burning heat did nothing to ease the cold that had spread through him like creeping fingers gripping his heart.

After the fight - no, murder - in the Chamber, the events that followed had blended into an incoherent mix of blurred faces and words. A singing bird as bright as the sun carrying him away. A tired looking woman with a tender expression on her face cleaning the deep gash on his back. A woman with a green hat and robes questioning him gently, yet receiving nothing in response. All of these memories flashed across his mind faster than he could fully absorb, but one question echoed throughout all of them.

What the hell had he done?

"That doesn't make it any easier", Harry croaked, his first words since leaving the Chamber emerging as little more than a whisper. Dumbledore sighed, as he gazed across at the pale boy who was numbly staring at the hot chocolate that was burning his unfeeling hand. So young, and forced to take a life. Dumbledore wanted to weep, yet his sorrow went beyond what tears could express. As Dumbledore gazed upon Harry, he could not help but be amazed. For 11 years he'd been abused and mistreated by his family, yet he killed a friend to save someone he hated from a death he didn't deserve. How the boy had not succumbed to his inner darkness was something that Dumbledore could not, and probably never would, understand.

"What will happen to the diary? Harry asked hoarsely.

"I have already seen to it. Tom Riddle seemed to find you a far more appetising meal, considering the vast darkness that sleeps within you. Had you not stopped him, young Ginny would have died, and you would be dead or worse, a pawn of the dark." It was no use; even as Dumbledore tried to console Harry, the poor boy withdrew even further into himself.

"I think that it's about time that I taught you how to control your powers", Dumbledore said, yet even these words elicited no response from the young teenager sat opposite him. As Dumbledore made to continue, he was interrupted as the beautiful singing of what could only be a phoenix echoed through the silent office. As Dumbledore watched in surprise, Fawkes swooped down to perch on Harry's shoulder, before rubbing its shining head against his own. Raising his head, Harry smiled weakly and gently touched the phoenix, who leant into his touch. Dumbledore, awestruck at the beauty of this moment, felt tears brimming in his ancient eyes.

"It appears Fawkes has taken a liking to you", Dumbledore commented, smiling at Harry, who just gazed in wonder at the bird.

"Why?" Harry said at last. "I'm a monster. I killed another person. I-"

"Harry, you went into that Chamber to save your brother", Dumbledore interrupted. "You killed an imitation - yes, not a real person - to save someone you despised. Those are not the actions of a monster, they are the acts of a hero."

"I am not a hero!" Harry growled. "I didn't save my brother out of love, or selflessness. I saved him because I didn't want his death on my conscience. The whole time, I was thinking of myself."

"Harry, do not take me for a fool, for I am most certainly not one", Dumbledore frowned at the young wizard. "You know that I can tell when you're lying, and you are lying right now. Whether you think you are or not, you did something truly heroic today, and Alfred is not like to forget it. And no," he added, as he realised what Harry wanted. "I will not modify or wipe his memory of what happened."

"But if he tells everyone..!" Harry cried, fear overtaking his anger, and Fawkes began to sing to calm the Potter, who was unaffected by its beautiful lullaby.

"He hates me, and I hate him. He'll tell anyone who'll listen."

"No he won't". Dumbledore smiled slyly. "The powerful and famous Boy Who Lived, saved by his older brother? His ego wouldn't allow it. Besides which, it's about time that you started treating each other like brothers, not enemies."

"But he's an arrogant twit!" Harry protested. "He's a bigot!

"And you're not?" Dumbledore asked, causing Harry to draw back, visibly hurt.

"What are you talking about? I could never be like him."

"Yet you refuse to accept change", Dumbledore sighed. "It was not his fault that he was named the Boy Who Lived. As you know, it is mine, yet here you are, speaking openly to me about secrets that you hide from even your friends."

"But you're different!" Harry insisted.

"No, you claim that we're different because I made a mistake but he did not, yet you judge him harshly for my mistake," Dumbledore snapped, irritated. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes before opening them, noting the apprehension on Harry's pale face through his half-moon glasses.

"You need to forgive him," Dumbledore concluded in a voice that brooked no argument, eliciting a snort of outrage from Harry. "Unless, of course, you want me to tell your parents that you have the Philosopher's Stone and what you're truly capable of." For a second, the words did not seem to register with Harry, yet as they dawned on him he went the colour of milk.

"You wouldn't dare", Harry croaked, yet his words lacked their usual confidence. "That would mean you're wrong, and that would ruin their hero worship of you."

"I've been wrong before, and I've lost more important things than respect in the past", Dumbledore replied. Glaring at Dumbledore's impassive face, Harry couldn't help but think that if Dumbledore played cards, he had the perfect poker face.

"Fine", Harry snarled. "But I'm not going looking for him. If he wants to try again he can make the first move." And with that Harry stood, left the office and slammed the door behind him. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice until Fawkes crooned softly beside him.

"No Fawkes, he's just feeling guilty." Dumbledore smiled sadly at the bird, which cocked its head to one side and crooned again. "No, I doubt he will ever be the same again."

The day before the students were due to leave, Harry sat on the Hogwarts Express, his trunk loaded with work for next year. Sighing, Harry leaned back against the seat, wishing that someone - something - would make a sound on this virtually empty train. It was strange; normally Harry enjoyed the silence, but now it gave him time to face up to his guilt over killing Tom.

Every night, he woke up covered in sweat and crying, having shouted out Tom's name. The others, even his friends, wouldn't understand. How could they? He murdered a friend in cold blood, how could he possibly justify that? It was bad enough that they couldn't understand why he was leaving! Even Sam, who Harry thought would understand, looked at him reproachfully and thought him a coward, and hey, maybe he was. Maybe he was so scared of his demons that he'd run away from everything he knew. If that was what he was, then so be it. Harry could already think of so many things to call himself; one more wouldn't hurt.

The train journey passed in a blur for Harry, who numbly watched the green fields fade into darkness as the sun slowly sank into the horizon. Again, he could not put the doubt inside him to rest. Was he really leaving Hogwarts, his true home, for good? Was he never to see Sam, Alex, and Amy again? It was all he could do to not ask the driver to take him back. No, he had to do this. He couldn't risk hurting his friends or anyone else at Hogwarts with his powers. He was too powerful, too dangerous...Too much like Voldemort. Shuddering at the thought of the connection he shared to one of the most powerful dark wizards the world had ever known, his decision was reinforced by the sight of yellow lightning crackling between the fingers of his right hand. Stowing his hand into his pocket as he grabbed his trunk with the other, Harry pulled open the compartment door and walked out of the halted train, onto the stone floor of platform 9 ¾. Sighing, Harry pushed his trolley - loaded with his trunk and Hedwig's cage - towards the barrier. As he passed through into the busy King's Cross station, he did a double take as he saw his parents walking towards him. Wrapping his hand tightly around his wand, Harry approached them. Stopping a few metres ahead of them, his expression remained stony despite their nervous smiles.

"Hello, son," James opened, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, seemingly ignoring Harry's tensing at his father's touch. If it were possible, Harry tensed even more when Lily enfolded him in a tight hug,  
"Oh Harry," Lily smiled, releasing Harry and stepping back, though she held his hands in hers.

"Hello, Mother. Hello, Father," Harry was shocked by the coldness in his own voice, even in his emotional state. He felt as if his very being had been turned upside down, leaving him devoid of every emotion. Feeling as if he couldn't bear to look them in the eye any longer, and suddenly feeling angry at himself for feeling this way, Harry offered his arm, holding his breath as the uncomfortable feeling of squeezing through a tube that signified apparition passed over him. The moment they arrived back at Potter manor, Harry yanked his hand from his mother's desperate grasp. "I'll take that, son," James said, heaving the heavy trunk up the stairs, leaving Harry and his mother standing in the hallway, awkwardly staring at each other. This awkward silence was broken by James' return, who ushered them both into the living room. Warily sitting across from his parents, Harry waited for them to speak first.

"So, Harry...How was your year?" James asked, smiling foolishly at Harry, who barely suppressed an eye roll.

"Alright." Clearly, this was not the answer that his parents had wanted, as they exchanged a strange look before turning back to face him.

"Harry, what happened in the Chamber of Secrets?" Lilly asked, reaching forward to clasp Harry's hand, who jumped in surprise and yanked his hand away as if his mother's very touch burnt him.

"How-?" Harry began, but James cut him off with "Dumbledore". Growling, Harry had to pause for a few moments to re-establish his occlumency shields. The last thing he needed to do was lose control and destroy the room.

"If Dumbledore knows so much, ask him," Harry answered promptly.

"But Harry-"

"NO!" Harry bellowed, causing his mother to recoil as if he'd hit her. "Neither of you have ANY right to demand secrets from me. They're mine, now keep out of MY life!" And with that, Harry stood and walked out of the room and up the stairs to his room.

Slamming the door behind him, Harry placed a shield that would block the sight of anyone looking in around the doorway. Sighing as his anger slowly left him, Harry began unpacking his pack, pulling items from it and placing them neatly in positions around the room. As he moved his pack aside and looked out of the window, he froze as the magical link he had implemented gave a gentle and subtle tug. Drawing his wand from its holster, he concentrated on the tug's location and teleported, appearing in absolute silence. Casting out his senses, Harry swung his wand from side to side, looking for the source of the disturbance. Finding no one in the area, Harry looked down at the tree he stood in front of, its pale white bark glowing eerily in the light of his wand. Dimming it somewhat, he pointed his wand at the ground in front of it.

"Harry Potter's secret artifacts are located underneath the white tree in the forest behind Potter Manor." The effect was immediate as the fidelius charm flickered and faded away, revealing a hole so protected by wards and charms that he believed that Dumbledore himself couldn't get through them. Pointing his wand at the wards, Harry uttered "prohibere", disabling the wards. Holstering his wand, Harry reached into the hole, pulling out a sack enchanted to have virtually infinite space and keyed to his magical trace. Pushing a tiny amount of his magic into the sack's lining, he felt the sack accept it and unlock, granting him access. Reaching inside, he emptied its contents into his lap; a large piece of english oak, a map of the globe, the infamous philosopher's stone, and the ring Tom had gifted to Harry last year. Gazing upon it, he noticed new details about it. The arcane writing around it was in fact runes that glowed as Harry's magic touched it. Warily slipping it onto his finger, he warily pushed a tiny amount of magic into it. Suddenly, he felt as if the stream of magic was being pulled along, and he couldn't halt it. As he began to panic, he jumped in fear as a warm hand touched his shoulder from behind. Spinning with his wand held in front of him, he cried out in surprise as an all too familiar figure with black hair smirked at him in a smug way.

"Tom?" Harry asked, causing the figure to roll its eyes.

"Who else would it be, fool? Alex? We don't have long, so listen carefully. This ring is a powerful gift that I created through the use of our combined magical power. Most of those powers and abilities you'll have to discover for yourself, but I programmed it with a miniscule fragment of my essence. This is, for want of a better term, my last goodbye."

"I'm so sorry, Tom," Harry cried, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I didn't want to-"

"I know you didn't, Harry," Tom reassured him. "I don't blame you. When I first came into being, I had only the emotions of Voldemort's. Hate, envy, arrogance, they were what made me who I was. But then, Voldemort hid me away, and my powers begun to run dry. I was on the brink of death when the most incredible thing happened.

You came, and I could feel your darkness, so similar to my creator's. So, I began to draw on it, and it gave me enough strength to appear in a physical form. At last, I had what I wanted; I was returned to a physical form, free to rule the wizarding world once more.

But then, something miraculous happened. During my time around you, I began to draw on your powers, too. Not just your elemental ones, but your other powers too. I even felt love. But then, my diary fell into the hands of Lucius Malfoy, who planted it in the hands of a silly girl called Ginny Weasley."

"So that's why I haven't seen you much this year!" Harry gasped, staring in awe at Tom as the pieces finally fell into place.

"The few times I could materialise were when Ginny was near. You were too distant for me to draw upon, and I grew desperate to return to you. So I drew Ginny into the Chamber, and from there-"

"You tried to drain her life force to restore yourself," Harry finished sadly, gazing upon Tom with pity anew. "All of this, you did for me?"

"Yes," Tom replied, the ancient eyes in his young and handsome face reflecting his sadness. "And now, I must go."

"Will I see you again?" Harry asked, his loneliness breaking through his impassive face, causing Tom to smile gently.

"Harry, even if you don't see me, I will always be with you. As to whether you'll see me again, who knows? The future is limitless. Take yourself where you want to go, not where you are told to go." As Tom's form began to fade, he turned to face Harry one last time.

"One more thing. I recommend you get a spare wand. The one you wield is too easily distinguishable and like you it has a destiny. You will need it one day, but that day is not here yet. If attention is drawn to it now it will not bode well for you or for it."

"What do you mean? What's so important about it?" Harry asked, but it was too late. Tom had gone. Placing the ring back into the sack alongside his other artifacts, he pushed a miniscule amount of magic back into it, sealing it. Placing the sack back into the hole, Harry pointed his wand at the hole and muttered "principium", sealing it and activating the wards. Standing and pooling together his alarmingly low magic supply, Harry vanished only to instantly reappear in his bedroom in the manor. Stripping off his dirty clothes, Harry climbed into bed and fell asleep within seconds.

Harry woke early the next day to the sound of tapping on glass. Climbing from his warm bed, he blearily opened the window, allowing the owl to land on his bedside cabinet. Taking the letter from the owl's extended leg, Harry opened it and began to read.

"Dear Harry,

I understand that you have just begun your holiday, however I believe that time is of the essence. Professor Snape will arrive the day after tomorrow to collect you and bring you back to Hogwarts.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore."

Harry blinked as he finished the letter and re-read it. He'd expected Dumbledore to at least wait a week or two before beginning their lessons. Yet it seemed there was no rest for the wicked (or the murderers). Pulling the Philosopher's Stone out of his pocket, Harry turned the ruby red stone over and over in his hands, trying to work out how to use it. Finally, Harry pushed his magic into the stone, causing it to glow in response. Taking this as a positive sign, Harry conjured a bar of steel and held it beneath the stone, willing it to turn to gold. As Harry watched in wonder, a blood red drop of liquid fell onto the steel, immediately turning it to gold. Conjuring a few more steel bars, Harry repeated this until a small mound of gold lay in front of him. Conjuring a small sack and quickly enchanting it to be far deeper than usual, an elated Harry hastily shoved the gold bars into the sack, before shrinking it and pushing it into his pocket. Exiting the manor, Harry disappeared from sight as he headed for his destination: Gringotts.

Ragnok really hated his job, sometimes. As he stared impatiently across at the fool of a wizard who sneered at him, he couldn't help but lament, not for the first time, on the bank's decision to affiliate itself with humans. As the form the wizard was signing rolled itself up and flew into his hand, he bowed and said goodbye to the wizard, who did not even bow his head. Growling softly as the door slammed shut behind the wizard, Ragnok took another sip of goblin mead, and as he was wondering whether he'd need another goblet of it, there was a knock at the door and a young goblin pushed his head in.

"Ragnok? There's another wizard here to see you," the goblin informed him. Sighing, Ragnok placed his goblet back on the desk and nodded at the younger goblin.

"Thank you, Nagkar. See him in, please." A few seconds later, the door opened again, and a hooded man in dark green robes entered. Sitting upright in his chair, Ragnok could not help but gaze in awe at the wizard. Despite the lack of identity revealed by the client, he emitted a sense of power that Ragnok had not been privy to since Albus Dumbledore had asked him to open a vault two years ago.

"Good morning, Mr…?" Ragnok began, raising an eyebrow to indicate an answer was necessary.

"Darst," the figure responded, his deep voice seemingly causing his goblet to shake slightly. "May your enemies suffer painful deaths, and your vaults be filled with gold." Stunned that a wizard could know the Goblin customs, Ragnok bowed his head slightly, his surprise rising as the figure did the same. Reaching into a drawer, Ragnok quickly scanned the long parchment contained within.

"It appears that you do not have a vault here, Mr Darst," Ragnok responded, closing the drawer and resting his fingertips together upon the desk. "Have you come to set one up?"

"Yes, I have. However that was not my only reason for approaching you. I assume that clients have absolute confidentiality here?" The figure asked, leaning forwards slightly. Smiling, Ragnok too leaned forward.

"Yes, Mr Darst. No one save the occupants of this room shall know what has been said here." Nodding, the figure seemed to hesitate for a moment before waving a hand over himself and pulling back his hood, causing Ragnok's eyes to widen in confusion and surprise.

The face that looked upon him now was not the face of an adult, as Ragnok had expected, but that of a boy. Messy raven hair covered the forehead of a pale thin face, yet most startling of all were the boy's eyes. Emerald green eyes that seemed to reflect all that the boy had seen at the viewer. Suppressing a shudder, Ragnok could not help but wonder what the boy had seen.

"Mr Darst, why is it that you look so similar to Lord Potter?" Ragnok immediately regretted mentioning the name, as the boy before him flinched before trying to disguise it as a shrug.

"In truth, I am his son. I am Harry Potter, but I do not want anything to do with Lord Potter and his legacy. As a result, I want a separate account opened that only I have access to." Ragnok tapped his fingertips on the desk thoughtfully. What the boy asked was difficult, but not impossible. However…

"With all due respect, Mr Potter, I do not see why you would require another vault. You already have a rather empty trust fund vault for you to deposit money in."

"I'm afraid that that vault can be accessed by my parents, and I do not want them to access what I am here to sell," the boy replied, pulling a small sack from his pocket and enlarging it with the wave of a hand.

"This sack is why I'm here today," the boy announced, his serious look dispelling Ragnok's smile as he gave the sack a dubious look. His dubious look turned to wondrous awe as the boy reached deep into the sack and pulled out a bar of solid gold. If possible, his awe grew evermore as the boy pulled out not one, but 12 gold bars. Reaching for one, he brought it close to his shocked eyes, confirming his belief that it was genuine gold.

"You are here to sell them, yes?" Ragnok asked, his tone going from polite to professional business-goblin.

"You are correct, Director. From my own estimations, each bar is worth nearly £394,000. Am I wrong?" Ragnok, pulling a quill and blank parchment towards him, swiftly began to add up the values.

"You are indeed correct, Mr Potter. As you know, gold is in high demand in the magical world. By my estimations, these 12 bars altogether are worth £4,728,000, or 945,600 galleons. Deducting the cost of opening a new vault, you shall receive £4,723,000 tax-free money for your vault, or 944,600 galleons. If I may, for another £3000 you can have a high-security, dragon guarded vault, complete with goblin wards and enchantments." Harry looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Is it possible for me to add my own wards and enchantments to the vault? I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of a dragon being kept away from its natural domain." Smiling kindly, Ragnok nodded.

"That is your prerogative, Mr Potter. If there is nothing else?" Harry shook his head. "Very well. Your money shall be transferred to your account within 5 minutes. I will have Nagkar take you there immediately." As Harry stood, he stretched out his hand for Ragnok, who shook it after a moment's hesitation.

"Good day, Mr Ragnok. I hope that we do business again soon," Harry smiled, a smile that was returned by the goblin.

"As do I, Mr Potter."

Ten minutes later, Harry left Gringotts with his money bag clinking happily. After withdrawing 100 galleons, Harry proceeded towards his next destination; Ollivander's shop. Opening the door, Harry slowly entered the shop, jumping in surprise as the wand maker's voice resounded from right behind him.

"Ah, Mr Potter. I wondered whether I would see you again." Ollivander smiled gently, before frowning. "I trust that your wand is serving you well? You haven't broken it, have you?" Shaking his head immediately, Harry raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"No, Mr Ollivander. The wand is fine. However, I require a second." These words did not seem to placate Ollivander as Harry had hoped, as his frown deepened.

"It is rare to find a wizard with two wands. I do not generally condone it, so I will require an explanation." Sighing, Harry began to choose his words carefully.

"I'm afraid that the wand is too elegant and powerful for use in school. It may draw unwanted attention to me," Harry explained, which was not a complete lie. He certainly didn't want undue attention being drawn to him, and to avoid that he needed a more bland wand. This answer seemed to satisfy Ollivander, who walked behind his desk and began to look through the rows of boxes around him. Pulling a crimson box off one shelf, he carefully reached inside and withdrew a long wand, which he handed to Harry.

Grasping the wand between his fingers and feeling an instant warmth emanate from the contact, Harry swished the wand in an arc, causing crackling lightning to flow from the wand tip down the wand and into his hand. As Harry watched in wonder, the lights in Ollivander's shop flickered and went out, as the flow of power slowed and stopped, causing the lights in the shop to return.

Clapping in delight, Ollivander took the wand and inspected it carefully.

"Hornbeam, 8 ½ inches, quite rigid and tailored for a wide array of spells. Curious, very curious…" Ollivander's voice trailed off.

"Sorry, what's curious?" Harry asked, frowning.

"This wand has a most unique core. You have heard of the phoenix?" Harry nodded. "This core is a lightning phoenix tail feather."

"A lightning phoenix?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"A cross-breed of the phoenix and the legendary thunderbird. Just as a phoenix is composed of fire itself, the lightning phoenix is composed of the storm in its entirety. It has the conventional powers of a phoenix, but also the formidable powers of the thunderbird. I thought that I would never sell this wand, but it appears that I was wrong."

"How-how many of these wand types do you have, Mr Ollivander?" Harry asked, dread rising within him. "Only one, Mr Potter." Noting his expression, Ollivander smiled gently.

"Calm yourself, Mr Potter. Only those who are well versed in the art of wandlore are privy to this wand's core. I will say this, however; this wand is a most unusual combination, and if this unique wand chose you, then a great destiny awaits you. I expect great things from you, Mr Potter. Great things indeed…" Shuddering, Harry handed over the seven galleons as quickly as possible and backpedalled out of the door. Focusing on the manor, Harry teleported into the small clearing where he hid his most prized possessions. Disabling the wards and taking out his English oak wand, Harry carefully placed the wand into the sack, sealing it and carefully activating the wards with his new wand.

As Harry entered the manor, he felt like he should try out this new wand. Searching for his father, he found him in his office, reading through some documents.

"Harry!" James exclaimed, turning to face him, smiling. "How can I help you?"

"Hello, Father," Harry began, choosing to speak politely but coldly. "I wondered whether I could use the duelling room today? I want to train for the duelling team next year." At this, James' face lit up.

"Ah, so you're following your old man's example then? It's all yours!" Smiling despite himself, Harry bowed his head in thanks before leaving the office, missing the frown that replaced his father's smile as he left the room. Turning away, he called, "Timsy!" At once, the house elf in question appeared before him, bowing low in greeting.

"Please keep an eye on my son. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself," James instructed the elf.

"Yes, Master. Timsy will keep an eye on young Master Alfred, Master," the elf responded, bowing once more. Groaning, James realised that the house elves didn't acknowledge Harry as his son.

"I meant Harry, Timsy," James clarified causing the elf to frown deeply.

"Master Harry, sir? But of course, Master! Timsy will do it immediately!" As the elf vanished with a crack, James turned back to his papers, his mind at rest now that he had someone to oversee his estranged son.

Diving to the side, Harry narrowly avoided a stunning spell thrown at him by one of the five metal mannequins that circled him. Rolling and landing on his feet, he cast a diffindo at one of the mannequins, slicing through its wand arm. As it turned to look at him and raised its other arm, Harry spun on his right foot and redirected a reducto spell towards the one armed mannequin, causing it to explode. Before its remains could hit the floor, Harry flicked his wandless hand, causing the pieces to fly through the air and rip through the metallic form of another. Turning, his senses picked up a diffindo flying straight at his face. Diving to the side, he took the brunt of the attack on his left shoulder, leaving a deep gash in it. Hissing with the pain, he blasted the mannequin responsible off its feet with a cry of "flipendo". As it collided with the wall, he seized it with his hand and, slowly closing his fingers, he crushed its metallic neck, severing its head. As he turned to face the remaining two mannequins, whose impassive faces made it difficult to predict their attacks, he barely shielded himself against a reducto that sent him flying across the room, to collide against the wall with a painful "crack!". Wincing with the pain, as the mannequins launched a pair of reductos at him, he instinctively raised his hands and bolts of lightning sprang forth, one yellow, one red. Absorbing the mannequin's curses, the arcs collided with the figures, causing them to explode and their parts to be thrown across the room. Shakily pulling himself to his feet, he used his wand to heal the deep gash in his arm before scrutinising the wand. While the wand felt as familiar as his dragonscale wand, he couldn't help but feel as if a small part of him was missing. While the wand certainly was powerful, perhaps moreso than his dragonscale wand, it certainly didn't feel as durable as his dragonscale one. Sighing, Harry knew that he would just have to get used to it.

He couldn't have everything in life.


	20. Chapter 20: Brothers and professors

**Warning: This chapter contains situations that are a bit graphic. If you can't stand minor to moderate amounts of gore, I recommend you do not read.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 20: Brothers and professors

The knock at the door came at exactly 7 am in the morning, as Harry was pulling on his worn boots. Tucking his lightning phoenix wand into his pocket, he could not help but long for his dragonscale wand. Sighing, he hurried down the stairs to the door. Pulling it open, he nodded in greeting to Professor Snape, who gazed upon him with an unreadable expression before turning away. Sighing, Harry pulled the door closed behind him and followed the professor, studying him as he struggled to keep up. Severus Snape was a hard man to like. With a long hooked nose, shoulder length hair as black as the night and a thin face that looked as though he'd been forced to suck on lemons, Harry could not help but feel wary of the man, even if he largely ignored him in his potions lessons. As he drew level with the man, he patiently waited for the older wizard to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I hope you don't think you're special, Potter," Snape said softly from beside Harry, glaring at him out of the corners of his eyes. "Just because the Headmaster has decided that you're somehow worth extra attention, don't think the rest of us respect you any more than before." Startled by the venom in the man's voice, Harry chanced a look at the professor, whose face was drawn into a vicious snarl as he glared at the boy. Forcing his face to remain unreadable, Harry held out his hand, gritting his teeth as Snape took his arm and pulled him through apparition.

Opening his eyes, Harry became aware that he was lying on the ground. Embarrassed, he pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off while taking in his surroundings. Snape had apparated them to the very gates of the eerily silent Hogwarts. Nodding in thanks to the professor, he jumped as a hand suddenly grasped his forearm. Quickly shaking off the older wizard's hand, he turned to face the professor, who still wore his expression of disgust as his head tilted to the side to observe the boy.

"Interesting...You look like your idiotic father, but you have your mother's eyes. And yet, there's something else. Something new, something dark." Harry shuddered as the man gazed into his eyes, seemingly looking right into his very soul.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry responded defiantly while his gut felt like lead. "I am who I've always been." At this, Snape sneered at the pale boy.

"Typical. Just like your father." And with that, Snape apparated away, leaving the boy speechless. Shaking his head in confusion, he pushed open the gate to Hogwarts and headed towards the castle.

* * *

Diving to the side, Harry narrowly avoided the pillow that was sent flying towards him by his opponent. Scrambling to his feet, Harry gave the smiling Dumbledore a look of black fury before drawing his wand. Casting a stunner at his powerful enemy, he yelped in surprise and pain as a red hot spell sent his wand flying from his grasp. Clutching his injured hand, Harry barely dodged his own stunner as it was thrust at him.

"You need to focus, Harry," Dumbledore admonished the young wizard. "You may be fast and strong for your age, but those will only help you so much in a duel."

What," Harry panted, dodging a spell. "Is the point," pushing magic into his legs to blast him across the room. "Of this?" He gasped as a white spell struck him dead centre in the chest. Stumbling backwards, Harry desperately intercepted another attack with a desperate bolt of yellow lightning, which rebounded and hit the wall, causing Dumbledore to tut.

"The point is that it teaches you control, which you sorely lack," Dumbledore explained, frowning slightly as he ceased his attack. "Your magic is incredibly powerful, but every time you've tried anything effective it's out of desperation or instinct. You're unable to tap into your element because you've never explored it."

"You're asking the impossible," Harry gasped, casting some basic healing charms on himself.

"Then you must _accomplish_ the impossible," Dumbledore replied cryptically, pulling Harry's wand to him. Waving both wands in a half arc, he summoned a large pile of cushions. "I am going to throw these at you. I want you to stop them without your wand, without destroying them or moving their position. Simply stop them in flight."

"And how do I do that without attacking offensively?" Harry asked.

"Use your gift! You can harness the very air that surrounds you. Use it!" And with that, Dumbledore launched the first pillow at Harry, who dived out of the way. As the second one was launched towards him, Harry found his feet stuck to the ground. As the pillow was about to hit him, time seemed to slow around Harry. Feeling his magic surrounding him, he drew in the air that he could almost see swirling around him. Raising his hand, Harry watched in surprise as the air sprung forth from Harry's hand in a torrent, knocking the pillow into the air, where it fell to the floor a few metres away with a loud "thump!" Panting, Harry turned to face Dumbledore, who was now smiling at him.

"Not precisely what I had in mind, but very impressive for a first attempt," Dumbledore winked at Harry, who glowered in response. "Come Harry, don't look so glum. I didn't expect you to get it on your first go. Now, again!"

* * *

Groaning, Harry stumbled towards his bed and collapsed onto it, closing his eyes to try and bear the swimming of his head. The old man had kept him at it for 2 hours before calling for a stop once he saw that Harry could barely stay on his feet. Groaning, he slowly stretched his aching arms, hissing with pain as they made a loud cracking sound. Lowering his arms, Harry pulled off his soiled clothes and walked through the door off his bedroom leading to the en-suite bathroom. Turning on the shower, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of warm water running over his aching limbs. Opening his eyes and holding out his hand in front of him, he focused his magic, attempting to summon a bolt of lightning between his fingers. Instead, all that manifested was a faint spark that crackled feebly. Dispelling the spark, he closed his hand into a fist so tight his knuckles went white.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he sunk into his bed. With the adrenaline that still flooded through his veins, he thought it would take hours for him to fall asleep. To his surprise, as soon as his head touched the pillow the world around him went dark, leaving him to the restless sleep he seemed to experience every day.

* * *

It was the same dream again. Harry sat on the floor of the Great Hall, which looked like the site of a battle. Tables and chairs lay broken on the floor and blood splattered the walls, yet that was not what attracted Harry's attention.

Bodies lay everywhere. Broken, bloodied bodies lay slumped against walls, against floors, even hanging limply from the ceiling, suspended by invisible cords. Shakily climbing to his feet, he made to step forwards when he heard a gasp of pain from his left. Following the feeble coughing, Harry darted towards the source, pausing in front of the person to take in the sight.

An older Alfred lay slumped against a wall, covered in crimson blood so thick it was as if his skin had been born that colour, broken only by the deep trails of tears that had remained on his face and the white of his teeth through the open mouthed scream that would never be heard again. His uniform was torn to shreds, and the skin underneath had fared no better, deep claw marks revealing his ribcage and the organs within. The shattered body that was once Ron Weasley's lay on the ground next to him, his wide eyes reflecting the pain that his dismembered corpse suggested, the parts lying a short distance away. Next to him, Hermione Granger lay with her eyes closed, a pool of blood laying around her originating from a deep vertical gash running from her neck to her torso. As he knelt beside her, her eyes snapped open, causing Harry to yell in surprise.

"Harry, please…" She wheezed, coughing as a thick trail of blood ran down from her mouth. Grasping her stone cold hand between his two warm ones, he gazed deep into her eyes, crazed by pain and confusion.

"Who did this, Hermione?" Harry asked softly, gently wiping away the bubbling blood that threatened to choke her.

"I thought that we were supposed to be your friends…" Hermione whispered, and as Harry frowned in confusion, Hermione changed before his very eyes, morphing into Amy, her once immaculate brown hair torn and stained with her own blood, looked up at him, her beauty marred by a huge gash that went right down to her skull.

"I thought you were meant to care about us…" Amy morphed into Alex, his skin blackened and hanging loosely off his face.

"I do! I do care!" Harry cried, tears threatening to leak from his eyes. At once, Alex turned into Sam, her right arm missing and her face covered in congealed blood.

"Then why did you lie to us…?" Sam hissed, her face drawn into a hideous sneer. Blinking away the tears, Harry realised that he was holding the body of Tom, looking exactly as he did in the Chamber. With a cry of fear and shock, Harry leaped away from the corpse, when he suddenly felt a hand on his leg. Turning, Harry gave a quiet scream as the face of Dumbledore leered up at him, his legs missing from his body and half his face missing, exposing the grinning skull beneath.

"You betrayed us, Harry…" Dumbledore hissed, his skeletal hand faltering and slipping from Harry's leg.

Backing away, Harry was suddenly surrounded by the bodies of his friends, all of them looking at him with pure hatred on their faces.

"Monster," Amy spat.

"Demon," Sam snarled.

"Traitor," Alex sneered. At once, their voices all rose as they began chanting those three words, even as Harry fell to his knees and dug his hands into his ears, weeping uncontrollably. Suddenly, the voices stopped, and Harry warily opened his eyes, looking about him in fearful trepidation.

"Harry…" A voice from the shadows whispered. Turning around, Harry yelped as Tom emerged from the shadow, decay already setting in, his exposed skin turning a mix of blue and purple. His once handsome features were marred by the flesh that had disappeared from his face, exposing the rotten muscles beneath.

"I thought I was your friend! I trusted you, I believed in you!" Tom screamed, his skin slowly falling away to expose the rotten muscles beneath. Harry backed away, weeping and shaking his head.

"Tom, please…" He sobbed, his guilt returning tenfold.

"You betrayed me! You killed me! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THAT?!" At once, Tom's muscles fell away to expose the bones underneath. As Harry watched in horror, the body morphed into the cloaked figure he saw in his dreams last year. As it raised its eyes to look at him, Harry gave a silent scream as malevolent crimson eyes froze him to the spot, and as a green light flew towards him, Harry screamed in fear as the curse approached him.

"Harry!" Harry continued to scream as the curse reached his body, its deadly power inches away from his skin.

"Harry, wake up!" Suddenly, Harry felt a vicious pain in his right cheek. For a few seconds, Harry thrashed around in fear, expecting to feel the excruciating pain he'd braced himself to feel in his dream hit him any second. When nothing came, he opened his eyes and shakily raised himself to a sitting position, his hands clasped around his knees. Looking around, he noticed Alfred standing a foot away from his bed, a wary expression on his face as he gazed upon his sobbing brother. At last, the boy pulled himself together, wiping away his tears and raising his eyes to look at Alfred.

"What happened?" He croaked, his throat painful from screaming. Knowing that the worst of his brother's fit had passed, Alfred warily sat on the edge of the bed.

"I was going for a drink of water when I heard you screaming." Alfred explained, looking around the room. Noticing his fearful gaze, Harry looked around his room, his mouth open in an expression of shock and embarrassment.

The room looked as if a tornado had hit it. Carefully stacked books lay strewn across the floor, their pages ripped apart and littering the floor like confetti. His pillows were lying across the floor, while the duvet was ripped to pieces. His carefully stacked homework, completed the day after he'd arrived, was obliterated, leaving behind a mess of scraps of paper. Noting his brother's pained grimace, he followed his gaze to the boy's right arm where a deep cut lay, oozing blood at an alarming rate. Gently taking the boy's arm in his hands, he felt his brother tense before relaxing, choosing to trust him. Surprised, Harry had to focus on the task at hand. Drawing upon his magic, Harry willed the wound to close, opening his eyes as his brother gasped in shock. Checking the arm was fully healed, he released his brother's arm, looking down at his hands in embarrassment at his weakness. So when a hand gently touched his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alfred asked softly, sounding nothing at all like the arrogant twit he'd been exposed to for so long. Shaking off his hand, Harry shook his head.

"It was just a nightmare, that's all," Harry said. He knew that his brother could tell that he was lying, as he raised his eyebrows.

"Are you trying to reassure me of that, or yourself?" Alfred questioned, before dropping the subject when his brother didn't answer. "In any case, we should clear up before Mum and Dad see." Grateful for the change in subject, Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside cabinet, standing on shaky legs so that his back was to his brother. Raising his wand and closing his eyes so that he could concentrate better, he swished it in a wide arc, willing the room to be restored to its former state. As the sound of rapid movement slowed and stopped, Harry opened his eyes, blinking in shock at the result of their combined magic, which had turned the previously ruined room to its previous condition. Lowering his wand, Harry sat down heavily on his restored bed, his limbs still shaking slightly from the dream. Noting Harry's trembling, Alfred darted out of the room to grab a sleeping draught from the manor's potion cabinet. Returning to his brother's room, he handed it to the boy, who downed it in one go. As he turned to leave, Alfred stopped when his brother called his name.

"Thank you," Harry whispered, before sleep overtook him and he fell into a dreamless sleep. Smiling sadly, Alfred couldn't help but think that maybe Dumbledore had been right. Turns out that his brother wasn't the evil manipulative psychopath that he thought he was.

* * *

Crouching behind his shield, Harry gritted his teeth as 3 stunning spells collided with his shield with enough power to force him to step back despite the shield that protected him. Pooling his magic together again, he willed it to send forth a blast of air to send the three 6th year level mannequins flying backwards. As his magic shot from his fingers at speeds too fast to comprehend, Harry could not help but feel elated at the thought that he'd finally done it – he'd finally learnt to control his powers! However, Harry's elation was short-lived as two of the mannequins merely had their hair ruffled while the third simply shot a diffindo at him. Stumbling backwards as his blood splattered across the floor, Harry clutched his wounded chest, raising his hand just as a second diffindo and a stupefy hit him at the same time, sending him flying backwards to collide with the wall with a loud "crunch." Feebly raising his hand to make one last effort, he closed his eyes to brace himself for the pain as a third diffindo flew towards his face.

When the pain never came, Harry opened his eyes to see a peculiar sight. Each of the mannequins now lay deactivated on the floor, and a small elfish creature wearing a tea towel stood over him, concern in its great brown eyes. Trying to pull himself to his feet before falling back with a pained gasp, Harry felt the blood flood to his cheeks as the diminutive creature looked at him with increasing concern.

"Master is hurt! Does Master need Mistress Potter?" The elf squeaked, wringing its hands in worry. Coughing, Harry shook his head, too out of breath to speak. The thing seemed to be confused by this, frowning as it gazed down at the young wizard, who was currently holding a pale hand to his bleeding torso.

"But Master is badly hurt! He needs help!" The creature squeaked, vanishing with a loud crack. Groaning, Harry rested his head against the wall. Great. Just what he needed, to be fussed over by his parents. Sighing, Harry tried to heal himself, yet nothing happened. Frowning, Harry tried again, and again, and again. No matter how many times he tried, nothing seemed to happen. Growling in frustration, he slammed a wall against the wall, only to hiss in pain as the sudden movement caused fresh pain to spring from his injuries. Sighing, he gently lifted the bottom of his shirt, allowing him to see the two gashes.

It didn't look promising. The cuts were at least an inch deep, only a centimetre or so away from the bones beneath. Blood ran from the wounds down the edges of his chest onto the floor beneath him, covering them in the sticky substance. As Harry was suddenly seized by a new wave of coughing, the sudden spasm felt as if someone had stuck a knife between his ribs and twisted it. As the pain threatened to overload his senses, Harry heard the distant murmur of voices.

Too late, always too late…

* * *

**And that's it! What did you think of this chapter? I tried to improve my writing style and I want to know how successful I was as I can't help but feel like this story has been somewhat lacking in dialogue. **

**Please review and let me know what you thought.**

**Until next time, cheerio!**


	21. Chapter 21: Memoirs

**Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter 21 of The Lost Child. I'm so sorry for how long this has taken, but college is a lot more demanding than I thought it would be.**

**Before I say anymore however, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the story. I've taken your suggestions on board and will act on them, starting with Harry's childhood! This chapter will begin about a year after the events of chapter 1 and continue from then.**

**Warning: There will be some relatively strong language in this chapter (not too much, but enough that I thought I should forewarn you). Reader's discretion is advised.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 21: Memoirs

JAMES POTTER, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" With a small yelp, James jumped away from the giggling infant in front of him spinning to face the fiery redhead who stand in the doorway with her hands on her hips, glowering at her mortified husband.

"Nothing, darling. Nothing," he insisted, waving his hands around with a comical expression so extreme Lily could barely keep a straight face. "Oh really," she asked. "So why is Alfred floating in midair?" Spinning, James looked up just in time to see a laughing ball of Alfred fall onto him, knocking him to the floor. Groaning, he looked up wearily at the giggling baby whose face was inches from his, his chubby face lit up with childish joy. Looking at her husband, with his glasses askew and his position on the ground, was more than Lily could take. Clutching her sides, she giggled with laughter. After a few moments, James and Alfred joined in, filling the manor with their laughter. As their laughter ebbed, Lily and James could hear the wailing of another child. Sighing, Lily made to turn and head towards the source of the crying, but James beat her to it, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before running up the stairs towards the source of the crying.

Looking down at the young boy whose face was scrunched up as he cried, James picked the 3 year old up, who ceased his wailing as soon as his father touched him. Holding the toddler close, James couldn't help but notice the contrast between Alfred and Harry. While Alfred had soft brown hair that was beginning to emerge, Harry's was as black as midnight. While Alfred had hazel eyes, Harry had eyes as green as emeralds that seemed to pierce through your very soul. Brushing his eldest son's hair away from his forehead, revealing the faded lightning scar he'd suffered when "Lord" Voldemort attacked them about a year ago. Even now, the anger rose within James. How dare Voldemort attack **his** children. Stopping when he realised that he was causing Harry's bed to shake, he laid the boy back on the bed, tucking him in and kissing him on the forehead as he stood to leave.

"Daddy?" Harry started, pulling the blankets up around him.

"Yes, son?" James replied, turning and smiling lovingly at the boy, who stared up at him with fearful eyes.

"I saw him again, Daddy," Harry whispered, causing James' forehead to wrinkle as he frowned.

"Who was it, Harry? Was it a nightmare?" He asked, kneeling next to the boy and taking one of his hands between his own.

"The bad man, Daddy." Harry's reply was barely a whisper, yet his answer filled him with dread. As if it wasn't enough that the bastard had tried to murder his beautiful children, now he haunted them in their dreams?

"Daddy? He can't get us here, can he? He-He can't hurt us, can he?" The boy's voice shook as his father didn't respond, tears threatening to spill over. Leaning forward and tucking his child in, James smiled reassuringly.

"No, son. He'll never hurt you or your brother again." This seemed to settle the boy, who smiled at his father before turning over.

"Love you, Dad," the boy replied, closing his eyes as his father switched off the light.

"Love you too, son. Night," James replied, smiling sadly as he left the room.

* * *

"Alfred, put that down!" Lily yelled over the crashing of the kitchen's contents, as they were thrown around the room. Pulling her wand away from the boy's mouth and flicked it once, she sighed in relief as the relentless crashing suddenly ceased. Kneeling down at the boy's level, she formed her face into a stern frown.

"What have I told you about playing with wands, Alfred?" She asked, as the boy looked down at the floor and fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"I'm not allowed to touch it," the boy remembered, not meeting her gaze. "Sowwy Mummy." Unable to keep a straight face, Lily smiled and ruffled the child's hair, who looked up and beamed at her.

"Mum?" Looking behind her, Lily's smile faltered for a moment when she saw the excited face beaming up at her before resetting itself.

"Hey, little guy. What's wrong?" She asked, ruffling his hair.

"Look what I can do, Mum!" The boy exclaimed, closing his eyes and holding out his hand. At once, the wand she'd placed on the table lifted into the air and span around, falling into her hands. For a moment, Lily was awestruck and simply stared at the giggling boy, whose 6 year old face was lit up in delight.

"Harry…" She started, before being interrupted by a crash behind her. Whirling around, her eyes widened as the pile of dishes she'd been washing suddenly zoomed out of the sink and circled Alfred.

"Merlin," she breathed, before flicking her wand once, sending the plates back to the sink. Picking up the giggling 5 year old, she spun him through the air to his obvious delight, giggling and laughing. Setting the boy down, she couldn't help but look at him in awe, causing her to jump when a small hand grabbed hers.

"Mum, what do you think?" Harry asked, excitement obvious on his face. Sparing the boy a smile, she ruffled his hair.

"That was really good, Harry! Well done!" Harry beamed, as his father entered.

"James! Did you see what Alfred just did? He moved the plates around the room!" Lily squealed, her face drawn into a wide smile.

"Did he now?" James asked, pride showing on his face as he smiled down at Alfred.

"Dad, I moved Mum's wand!" Harry yelled, jumping up and down to get his father's attention.

"Hmm? Oh, very impressive, Harry. How did you do it, Alfred?" James asked, turning away from the dejected eldest son and focusing on the youngest. Looking down at the ground, Harry looked at the floor and walked towards the doorway, looking up at the door to see whether they'd noticed his absence. Nothing. Sighing, Harry walked out of the room, tears in his eyes.

* * *

James was just sitting down for his first cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. Sighing, he placed it down as Lily ran down the stairs to open the door. Pulling it open, she did a double take at the elderly wizard who beamed at her from the other side. "Albus!" She exclaimed, happy to see her old mentor. "It's been so long! What brings you here today?" Following her into the kitchen, he shook a bewildered James' hand, still smiling pleasantly.

"It's good to see you both so well. I was on my way back from a meeting with the Minister when I felt the sudden need to visit. Thank you, Lily," taking the freshly boiled cup of tea she offered him, he took an experimental sip before nodding his approval. "A fine cup of tea, Lily. It's almost as though you were anticipating my arrival," he joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Taking a seat opposite the two young aurors, he was about to continue the conversation when he was interrupted by a blur running across to his mother, who picked him up and sat him on her lap. Ruffling his hair, Lily smiled lovingly at the boy, before gesturing to the famous wizard. "This is Albus Dumbledore, Alfred. Say hello." The young boy looked shyly at the old man who beamed at him, before mumbling out "Hi". James and Lily looked at each other as Dumbledore chuckled. "Hello, Alfred. The last time I saw you, were but a baby in your mother's arms." As the boy looked up at him, the headmaster twitched his finger, moving the hair on his forehead slightly so that he could see the crescent scar that was nearly invisible there. Nodding to himself, he turned to look at the parents. "Has he experienced any strange behaviour? Any headaches, moments of staring into the distance, anything like that?" When both parents shook their heads, Dumbledore smiled in relief.

As he cleared his throat, he sensed a magical presence by the doorway. Turning to look, he observed the child standing stock still by the door, his surprisingly confident in complete contrast with his brother's. Looking between the two, he couldn't help but note that even their appearances were different. Turning back to the elder Potter, he smiled benignly at the boy, who didn't return his smile. "Ah, Harry! I was wondering where you'd gone," Lily said, looking at the boy calmly. "This is professor Albus Dumbledore. He's the headmaster of Hogwarts." At this, Harry looked at the old wizard, who suppressed a shudder as those emerald green eyes, so full of loneliness and sadness, turned on him. Casting out his magic, he allowed it to discretely resonate against Harry's magic, which returned a 'ping' of its own. As he processed the new information, his hands clenched in shock. This boy's magical signature was powerful, more powerful than most children of his age should be. Hiding his surprise, he gestured to the boy to sit at the table, yet the boy refused. Frowning slightly, Dumbledore opted for the grandfatherly approach. "Hello, Harry," he greeted gently, confidant that the boy wouldn't be able to resist such kindness. He was wrong. "Professor," the boy replied, his reply snappish and rather blunt. Blinking, he turned to see that Lily and James were as surprised as him. "Harry, that's not how you greet a man as great as Albus!" James yelled, embarrassment stroking his irritation into anger. Raising his hands in a placating manner, Dumbledore gestured for them both to sit, hoping that they wouldn't realise that he was ordering them around their own home.

"Are you planning to come to Hogwarts next year, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his grandfatherly voice somewhat strained. The boy looked almost bored, as he confirmed this assumption. "Would you mind demonstrating something for me, child?" Dumbledore requested, causing the boy to look at him warily. "Why should I?" He responded, causing Dumbledore to chuckle at his nerve even as Lily's face went as red as her hair. "From what I've sensed, your level of power is most unusual for your age. I've only met a handful who can either match or surpass it, one of which is your brother," gesturing over his shoulder towards the confused boy whom was still held in his mother's arms. I'm curious whether you are truly this powerful, or my senses aren't as refined as they used to be." Looking at the smiling man, Harry chewed on his bottom lip before finally nodding reluctantly. His smile spreading, Dumbledore gazed upon the boy as he closed his eyes, while his parents watched in interest. For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Dumbledore began to frown. However, just as he was about to say that there was no point in continuing, the boy gave a grunt, almost as though he was lifting a heavy weight, and suddenly the table they were sitting beside rose a few centimetres into the air, the mugs on the table rising separately. After a few seconds, the table crashed back to the floor with a loud "bang", followed shortly after by the smashing of several mugs as they toppled afterwards. Spinning around to face the boy, he saw something interesting. The boy's iris seemed to turn an amber colour. As he looked closer, the boy gasped, falling to his knees on the floor before struggling back to his feet, his eyes returned to their natural green colour. Nodding at the boy, Dumbledore thanked him. "It has been...Interesting, Harry", to which the boy's lips twitched upwards. "The feeling is mutual, _professor_." And with that, the boy was gone.

As the sound of his footsteps receded, Dumbledore waved his hand, instantly repairing the mugs and removing the tea and coffee from the floor. "This is troubling, very troubling," he muttered to himself, unaware that Lily and James could hear him clearly. "Go and play, Alfred," Lily told the boy, putting him down and waiting before he'd left the room before asking in hushed voices what was troubling. Looking at them, Dumbledore weighed up the benefits of keeping them in the dark with telling them the truth. Would it be right to keep them in the dark? They were the boy's parents, they had a right to know. Sighing mentally, Dumbledore couldn't help but resent his appearance as the honest old man. "There was a reason why I asked young Harry to perform some magic, my friends," he spoke quietly, causing them to lean in close. "When he fell to the ground, I noticed something about his eyes." Lily frowned, prepared to interrupt Dumbledore when James put a hand on her arm, silencing her. "Go on, Albus."

"When I looked, I noticed that they changed colour," he sighed, rubbing his temples in confusion.

"But Albus, what does it _mean_?" Lily asked, her face going pale.  
"I'm not sure yet. However, his unusually vicious attitude, his powerful magical presence...I shudder to think what it could mean."

"Then...What should we _do_?" James asked, his shocked face appearing almost fearful.

"As of now, just keep an eye on him. I'd also recommend you keep Alfred away from him. If there is something dark in him, then it's best to keep your distance until I've found the source." Pulling on his cloak, Dumbledore missed the guilty that the parents shared before looking back at the elderly wizard. Making his way towards the door, he smiled in thanks as it was opened for him by James. Turning upon exiting the manor, he smiled back at the two. "Thank you for the tea, Lily and James. I hope to see you again soon." And with that, he apparated away.

* * *

With a gasp, Harry woke from his troubled dreams, wincing as he pulled at his gut. '_Eurgh, it feels like I've had a dozen curses shot into my chest,' _he thought, gingerly feeling his wounds. When he realised that his organs weren't in danger of falling out, he slowly laid back on the bed, frightened by his weakness. '_What happened_ _?' _He asked himself, barely remembering anything past walking into the training room. Right on cue, James and Lily walked into the room, calling out his name in surprise when they saw he was awake. Too weak to pull his arm out of his relieved mother's hands, he turned towards his father. "What happened?" He croaked, his throat dry. Wordlessly, his father handed him a glass of water, which Harry gulped down thirstily. With his throat no longer feeling like sandpaper, Harry could focus, and he turned to his parents. "How'd I get so banged up?" He asked, confused and bewildered. Sharing a glance, the two sat in the chairs next to the bed, gazing at him with unreadable expressions. After a few seconds, Harry snapped "what?" at the two, which seemed to shake them out of their reverie. "Harry, we need to talk," Lily told him, her voice losing the gentle tone that it usually possessed when addressing him. Surprised, Harry rested his head back against the pillow. "Sure, but you'll have to forgive me if I pass out halfway through." Turning back to his parents, he raised an eyebrow at them. "Well?"

"Harry, we want to know what it is you've been doing in the training room, and why you keep going out towards the forest." Harry scoffed at their naivety. "And why would I tell you that? Even if I did, how do you not know if I'm lying or not?"

"Because we have someone here who's an expert in detecting lies." As if on cue, the door swung open once again, and Harry's eyes widened as the batlike Severus Snape sneered down at him.

"Hello, Mr Potter. Are you ready to tell the truth?" Snape smirked.

**Hi all, just wanted to apologise once more for how long it has taken me to update. I'll try to be a lot faster for the next one.**

**Please please review and tell me what you thought.**

**Cheerio!**


	22. Chapter 22: The right to remain silent

**Hey everyone! Welcome to chapter 22 of The Lost Child. I'm trying to get as many chapters as possible published this month so some of them will probably be shorter than the last few I've published.**

**I read through your reviews and I want to address something. I noticed that one or two reviewers pointed out how Dumbledore isn't acting like a good man. In truth, he's not supposed to. Unlike many stories, my Dumbledore is neither good nor bad. His heart is in the right place, but he has a habit of making grave errors and suffers from lapses in judgement. With this, I'm trying to find a balance between the angelic man JK Rowling and some writers painted him out to be, and the devil incarnate that some writers portray him as. I hope that I'm doing a good job, as I cannot stand a one-dimensional character. I am also aware of the significant plot holes in the story and I will go back and update those sometime in the next few weeks.**

**Anyway, enough from me. On with the chapter. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 22: The right to remain silent

"Is this some kind of joke?" Harry gasped, tearing his eyes away from the sneering professor and glaring at his parents, who wore stony expressions. "Because if it is, I'm not laughing."

"Harry, we're your parents. You could be putting yourself in danger," James replied, doing his best to defend himself and Lily even as Harry scoffed. "Considering that we found you bleeding out on the floor of the training room two days ago with a couple of gashes across your torso that were about a centimetre away from any vital organs, I'd say we have a right to know. Harry's laughter immediately stope and he winced. '_Two days? I've wasted so much time,' _he reprimanded himself, furious that he'd let himself be caught off guard like that in a **training exercise. **Gently lifting his shirt, he was surprised to find nothing there. No blood, no wound, not so much as a scar. Looking up at his parents, his mother gestured at Snape. "You have Severus to thank for that. He came as soon as we called him." James grunted at this, looking somewhat irritated by something. "Fine, when **I **called him," she corrected herself, glaring at James.

At this point, Snape cleared his throat, causing all eyes to turn on him. "I believe that Mr Potter is trying to draw us away from the topic at hand." Snape turned to Lily, gesturing at Harry. "I will need some privacy to conduct this test. It is of a rather...Sensitive, nature." Lily nodded, smiling gratefully at her childhood friend. "Of course, Severus. James, let's leave him to it." James opened his mouth to protest, but Lily's "one more word and I'll jinx you" glare ensured that he wisely shut his mouth and followed her, shooting a vicious glare at Snape - who only sneered- and a smile at Harry - who stared back stonily - before slamming the door behind him.

Turning towards the table beside his bed, Snape's sneer seemed to lessen slightly, as he began pulling items out of his cloak and placing them on the bedside cabinet. His wand, a vial of a strange clear liquid that looked like water, and a quill and paper. Turning back to Harry, who was still glaring at him, Snape held up the vial of transparent liquid. "This, Mr Potter, is a potion called veritaserum," he explained, shaking the vial delicately. "3 drops of this potion, and your darkest secrets will be laid bare for all to see." Harry's eyes widened dramatically, as he tried to sit up. With a lazy flick of his wand, Snape pushed Harry back as though invisible hands had grabbed him and held him down. As he struggled feebly, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out as he pulled at his wounded chest, metal bars coiled around his legs, arms and upper body, trapping him. Looking back at Snape with hate-filled eyes, the professor looked back calmly, his beetle black eyes staring down at the seething boy in front of him impassively.

"Mr Potter, I do not intend to use this unless you force my hand," Snape told him, sounding almost bored. "Answer my questions and you won't have to experience the effects of veritaserum. If not…" Snape shook the vial suggestively. Lowering his eyes, Harry glared at the wall behind Snape. Taking this to be a sign of defiance, Snape's face hardened more, as he contemplated using veritaserum on the idiotic boy immediately. "Very well, let us begin," he said, raising his wand and pointing it at Harry's head, causing Harry to snort in laughter. "Last I checked, you already tried this, and you failed," he taunted the professor, whose face twisted with rage. "Insolent boy," he hissed, pushing his wand so close to Harry's forehead that Harry could almost feel the spell before it had even been cast.

"Legilimens!"

* * *

Lily sat in the sitting room below, straining her ears to hear something - _anything _\- from the room above, but nothing could be heard. Rubbing her weary eyes, she couldn't help but think that they'd made some terrible mistake. Was Harry right? Did they have the right to invade his most private thoughts? Sighing, she smiled gratefully at James as he came in from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea, one of which he handed to her. Holding it between her idle fingers, she leaned her head on James' shoulder, who wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders. "Are we doing the right thing, James?" She asked softly, trying not to let the conflict within her show. James turned his head to look at her, surprised. "Lily, you were fine with it yesterday. What's changed?" Sighing, she looked into the golden brown depths of her undrunk tea, frowning in thought. "it's just the way he acted when he realised what we'd done. It's like..It's like we betrayed him," the last part came as a sob, which Lily muffled with a hand. Setting his and her cups aside, James pulled her into a tight embrace, muffling her crying against his chest. "It's okay," he hushed her. "I'll tell Snivellus - Snape," he sighed exasperatedly as Lily glared at him. "To stop," he finished, releasing her and turning away as he darted up the stairs.

Snape stumbled back slightly, breathing heavily. "Mr Potter, you are sorely testing my patience. Defying me won't earn you anything. It will only make this worse for you." The boy in question moaned in response, feeling as though his head had split open. It had only been 5 minutes and Harry's mental defences had been pretty much torn apart. He didn't know whether he could stand another mental assault like that, which was something he couldn't accept. Inside Harry, a weak voice cried out to him. '_Let him win,' _it cried, weakening Harry's resolve and tempting him to lower what was left of his defences. Suddenly, a stronger yet colder voice spoke to him within the darkness of his mind. "Harry Potter," it boomed, and Harry shivered at the sound. "_Are you truly so weak, that you would give in to this - this __**professor**_?" The voice's words filled Harry with rage, yet he couldn't help but think they were true. "_Who are you to call me weak?" _Harry yelled back, clenching his hands in anger. This seemed to amuse the voice, who went silent for a few seconds before a purplish orb formed before Harry. As he watched in horrified fascination, the orb suddenly began to change, forming arms, legs, even a head. As the orb finished transforming, he waited with bated breath as it turned towards him.

Harry gasped, as the figure smiled eerily at him. "_Yes, I am you, Harry Potter. Or at least, I am what you could become_," it added, opening its eyes and staring at Harry with crimson eye that seemed to look right through him. His eyes widening, Harry forcefully ejected himself from the room he'd built himself in his mind as a sort of bunker. Glaring at Snape with hate-filled eyes, he continued to stare at the professor as he raised his wand and pointed it at the boy, looking exhausted.

"Legilimens!"

At once, Harry heard a loud snapping sound, as though a piece of wood was being broken in half. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, which sent Harry into a spasm from the incredible pain that left him speechless. "_What's happening?" _He yelled out in his mind, only to hear a hiss of anger from all around him. "_He's destroyed our defences! Hurry, do something or he'll learn everything!_" As time seemed to slow around him, Harry thought at a speed that most people would struggle to comprehend. Realising that all he could do for now is buy time, he hurriedly shoved a random memory in front of Snape's probes, which activated it just as Harry realised what the memory was. "_No, not this one," _he cried out, trying to yank it back. It was too late. As he reached for it, the memory pulled both he and Snape in, forcing them to relieve Harry's memories.

_An 8 year old Harry sat on his bed, his legs pulled up to his chest as he hugged his knees. He didn't know where his parents were. All that he knew was that he was __**so**_ _hungry. Tears of frustration ran down the young boy's face, as he tried to justify himself to an invisible person. It wasn't __**his**_ _fault that Alfred had gotten hurt. He was only defending himself! Lying sideways on his bed, he recounted the events that led to him being locked in his room. Alfred laughing at him when he'd fallen from the tree, him shouting something at Alfred, before the younger boy who had the benefit of weight and height tackled him and slapped him across the face repeatedly as he cried out for the boy to stop. Harry closed his eyes, as he remembered what had happened next. An anger had suddenly spread through him, as the force of the blows was blocked out by Harry's rage. 'How __**dare**_ _this fat excuse for a child raise his hand against him,' he raged, feeling as if something else was using him as a mouthpiece. As Alfred lowered his hand to once more strike the prone boy beneath him, his hand suddenly stopped in mid-fall, as though an invisible hand had seized his hand and held it fast. _

_What happened afterwards seemed to come in flashes, as though Harry had been slipping in and out of consciousness. All he remembered was a scream of fear and pain, and the shape of a boy being sent flying into a nearby tree, to collapse in a crumpled heap. The next thing he was aware of was that he was being carried into his room, placed on the bed roughly, before the door slammed and was locked._

_That was 3 days ago. For all of that time, Harry had been stuck in his room, feeling as though an animal was clawing at his insides. Sobbing, he'd already tried screaming for his mum and dad, but no one had come. Sighing, he closed his eyes. He was __**so **__tired, but the pain in his stomach made sleep impossible. As Harry felt his anger growing, his eyes snapped open, the dull green eyes within glowing a piercing yellow colour. Feeling a surge of strength come over him, he shakily raised himself to his feet before approaching the door. Placing both hands on the door, he gently pushed at it, jumping back in shock as it went flying off its hinges, before smashing into hundreds of wooden splinters as it collided with the floor an entire staircase below. Slowly and painfully pulling himself along by using the banister as a support, he finally reached the bottom of the stairs, where he stopped briefly to catch his breath. As he moved into the kitchen, his trembling legs became too weak to support him, causing him to collapse on the hard ceramic floor. Gasping for breath, he willed his weak legs to move, but nothing happened. As he looked around, he noticed a whole loaf of bread on the counter above him. Reaching desperately for it, his fingers clawed at the air before his arms collapsed back to the ground, causing tears of frustration and pain to trail down his cheeks. As he closed his eyes and admitted defeat, he felt a strange warmth around his hands. Opening his eyes, he stared at his hands, now emitting a blinding golden light. Raising them towards the bread, he willed it to float towards him, smiling in sheer delight as it landed in his outstretched hands, where it was torn apart within moments. Full for the first time in days, he watched the glow around his hands slowly fade. For the first time in many months, Harry smiled. _

"ENOUGH!"

Just like that, he was yanked out of the fading dream, panting and shaking. Feeling the removal of the bars around his arms, he turned and vomited over the edge of the bed, his head feeling as though someone had used it to play the drums. Sobbing, he weakly looked up at Snape, who was holding a hand to a bleeding mouth. As the ringing in his ears stopped, he could make out raised voices. "You asked for **my **help, Potter. If your boy couldn't stand my legilimency, he should have just told me what you wanted to know.

"And you think that gives you the right to push him until he's bloody screaming and spasming?"

"Last I checked, Potter, you wanted answers. I almost had them until you interfered."

"Get the fuck out of my house!" Groaning, Harry saw both adults glance at him through his blurred vision, as one approached him and started casting spells over him. As his vision blacked out, the last thing he heard was James crying beside him, before oblivion embraced him.

* * *

As soon as Harry awoke from his pain-riddled sleep, he immediately wished he hadn't. As bad as the pain was as he slept, it was ten times worse when he was awake. Crying out in pain, he embraced his head between his hands, pulling away from the hands that grasped him. Ignoring the person calling his name, he screamed in pain as the scar on his forehead burned with the fury of a sun, sending him into a pain-fuelled spasm. As his throat grew painful from his screaming, he felt the sensation of a stunning spell hitting into him, before his world went black.

Opening his eyes, Harry was surprised to find himself back in his mind palace, its white walls cracked and crumbling from his mental battle with Snape. Knowing that something or someone had pulled him here, he yelled out, "alright, you called me. Who are you and what do you want?" For a few seconds nothing happened, then the copy of him that he'd seen when Snape had attacked slowly formed from a shadowy corner of the room, its crimson eyes staring right at him as it revealed a smile Harry hoped would never appear on his face. "You held off Snape until help arrived. I'm impressed," other Harry told him, ignoring his question.

"What. Are. You?" Real Harry asked, pointing his fingers at the other Harry and willing a bolt of lightning to form, but all that formed was a feeble crackling. As he frowned in confusion, he realised the other Harry was laughing. "You can't hurt me, Harry. Especially not in your weakened state of mind. All you need to know is that I am part of you, and someday, you will need me." As Harry opened his mouth to ask what it meant, the figure vanished, leaving Harry trembling as the mind palace's walls caved in and the screaming nightmares he's tried to block out overwhelmed him.

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**And that's it for this chapter! Please please review and tell me what you thought. I've tried to include more memories and we'll see some more in the upcoming chapters. **

**Why does Harry hate his parents and Dumbledore so much? Find out soon! **

**Until next time.**

**Cheerio!**


	23. Chapter 23: Broken part 1

**Hey everyone and welcome to chapter 23 of The Lost Child. First off, wow. It's hard to believe that I've been writing this story for 2 years now and I'm still nowhere near done. Don't worry, I have no plans to give up this story and will keep writing it so long as people enjoy it.**

**Anyway, happy 2 year anniversary everyone and I hope you enjoy this (admittedly short) chapter!**

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Chapter 23: Broken part 1

Lily looked down at the unconscious boy who lay on the bed she sat next to, his pale clammy skin glistening in the pale sunlight. It was early August, nearly a week after Lily had called Snape to find out what Harry was hiding. Since then, he hadn't woken up since then, and every time they touched him he'd cry out with pain and begin tossing and turning again. They'd had to resort to using nourishment potions that they fed to him with a straw to keep him healthy.

Rubbing her eyes, Lily yawned loudly as she looked at the watch James had bought her on their 1 year anniversary, 14 years ago. Over the past week, she'd barely slept or left Harry's bedside, only doing so when James insisted that she at least sleep for a little while and eat something. He didn't understand. How could he? She was the one who had insisted on using Snape. It was her who told him that he could do whatever is necessary to get them answers. All of this was her fault. How in Merlin's name could she sleep and act like she wasn't responsible? Covering her eyes, she tried to hide the tears that dribbled down her cheeks, but somehow they slipped through her fingers and fell to the carpet below with near silent splashes.

James stood in the doorway, watching the scene with increasing concern. Focusing on his wife, he could only imagine what she was going through. Her fiery orange hair almost brown with dirt and dust, and the skin around her bloodshot eyes almost purple with weariness. Her every move seemed to be those of an exhausted yet grieving woman. Of course, James knew why. In fact, he could sympathise with her completely. It was **his** fault that his eldest son, who he'd neglected for years and who was just starting to trust him again, lay on a bed and was all but dead to the world around him. Rubbing his aching eyes, he too did his best to suppress the tears that tried to leave them. Sighing, he quietly walked up to his unaware wife. Placing his left hand on her shoulder, he felt his torn heart rend even more as she jumped and he realised she was crying. Gently lifting his weeping wife to his chest, he held her as she finally fell unconscious out of sheer exhaustion. Lying her on the bed next to Harry's, he tucked her in and kissed her forehead, before tiptoeing out of the room. As he passed Harry's bed, he looked down sadly at the ghostly pale boy, before suddenly looking away as he felt himself nearing a breakdown. Pulling the door shut behind him, he left them to their (hopefully) peaceful dreams.

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Darkness. That was all Harry could see. Darkness that seemed to wrap around the shattered crystallic walls he'd spent so many years carefully constructing. Yet Harry made no attempt to move. He didn't even think he could remember **how** to move, so he allowed himself to float aimlessly in the blackness that surrounded him, the unbearable pain he felt reminding him that he was alive, but barely. He had no idea how much time had passed, but if time had indeed passed it had done little to ease his suffering.

He still didn't understand who his doppleganger was, or how it could exist outside from him. How could it wear his face? Was it a shadow? A shade? An illusion? He couldn't be sure anymore. Merlin, his head hurt. Gritting his teeth in a silent scream, he opened his eyes, his emerald green irises a beacon of light in the waves of darkness that rose up around him, trapping him in a cocoon of murky blackness. Reaching out his hands, he envisioned the ruptured pieces of his mind palace floating towards him, their translucent surfaces dulled and cracked. Tensing his muscles, he strained to shut his hands through the tar like murkiness that swirled around him. Growling, he slammed his hands together with all of his might, before spasming as he felt as though his head was about to explode with pain. Screaming noiselessly, he barely noticed the crystals until they collided into a rough and uneven circle, cutting off the nightmares that had tormented him endlessly and left him an unfeeling wreck. Sobbing, he gingerly pulled himself to his knees, the fragile structure cracking underneath his feet. Knowing it wouldn't hold for long, he dragged himself to the nearest wall, where he sat hugging his knees, with his face pressed against his arms, as he waited for the nightmares to break through.

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"Severus did this?" Dumbledore asked, his face pale in the moonlight that flickered through the blinds. Seven days later and Harry was still unconscious.

"Yes, Albus," James said, turning on his way back out of the door. "If I'd known this would happen-" What he would have done was lost to Albus, as he suddenly broke down in tears and retreated out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Sighing, the aged wizard looked at the young boy, his blue eyes lacking their usual twinkle. Dumbledore knew that Harry was strong, but looking at the boy and getting a glimpse of just what Severus had done to his mind was more than he could have ever imagined. The very thought of what Harry must be suffering made Dumbledore, despite all of the horrors he'd seen over his long life, shudder. Dumbledore had tried everything he could, but so far nothing had worked. Fortunately, he had been able to do something for Lily. After a long argument full of shouting and threats, he'd finally convinced her to sleep, eat, shower and look after Alfred, who had no idea what was happening. Dumbledore didn't want her to be here if the worst come to the worst. After all, few people knew the mind arts better than Dumbledore, and if even he had never seen a case so severe before, he doubted anyone else could deliver a better diagnosis. No one person, not Harry, not even him, could withstand that level of mental torture and recover.

Only a miracle could help Harry now.

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**And that's it! I apologise for how short it is but I didn't have much time to do this. I promise the next chapter will make up for the shortness of this one.**

**I hope you enjoyed and even if you didn't, please leave a review**

**Cheerio!**


	24. Chapter 24: Broken part 2

**Hello and welcome to chapter 24! I've made some changes to the story to make it more consistent and not an overpowered hero vs the world, particularly in regards to chapters 1 and 5. Please go back and read the story again. I've also addressed the inconsistency in Harry's age and schoop year, as well as Alfred's name. I hope you like the changes and enjoy this chapter.**

**Please reciew and enjoy!**

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Chapter 24: Broken part 2

Lily sat in the Potter library, tearing through book after book as she skimmed through for anything related to the mind arts. As the sky grew darker and the candle one of the house elves had placed on the table next to her burned lower and lower, she finally threw the last book onto the huge mound that had formed on the table. Glaring at the now empty row of medical books, she sighed in frustration, running her hands through her hair.

It had now been 2 weeks since Harry had fallen into his coma, and there had been no obvious improvement in his health. Lily stayed by his bed at almost all times, charging a house elf to watch over him when she had to tend to Alfred or when James insisted she get some sleep and eat while he stayed with Harry. Most of the time, she would pretend to eat while the house elf James had appointed to look after her fussed around her. When she finally gave in to the relentless arms of sleep, she was shaken loose from its blissful grasp by nightmares of a Harry trapped in a collapsing crystalline cocoon, his face buried between his knees as he tried to ignore whatever it was that was trying to break through to him. Before she knew it, she'd find herself sobbing on the floor, her hands clasped tightly over her face, and each night James would wake, pick her up, lie her back in the bed, and hold her until she stopped crying and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

James didn't know what to do. All he could do was watch in furious helplessness as his wife's health deteriorated before his eyes. Her figure, already slim, had become skeletal in appearance, her eyes were baggy and surrounded by alarmingly vibrant purple circles. He'd confronted everyone, from Dumbledore to Madame Pomfrey, but both said the same thing; until Harry was healed, there was nothing that they could do for Lily.

So he'd waited, and he'd waited, and he'd waited, but still nothing happened. Sighing, he ran his hand through Harry's messy hair, so like his own. Sinking heavily into the chair beside the bed, he rubbed his eyes with his other hand, guilt over what had happened obvious on his normally cheerful face. At the sound of footsteps, he turned to the door, putting on a cheerful smile as his youngest son stood in the doorway. "Dad, can I come in?" He asked.

"Of course, Son," he replied, raising his wand to conjure another chair, but nothing happened. Frowning, he tried and failed again, feeling as though his magical core was a brittle stick that was about to shatter under the force of his weariness. After a few attempts, Alfred held up his own wand, conjuring a small beanbag for himself. Surprised, James smiled, temporarily distracted. "It looks like you have my gift for Transfiguration," he smirked, causing his son to smile back in pride. "Mcgonagall says that I could give most of the Seventh Years a run for their money," Alfred replied, puffing out his chest slightly at this admission. "She's not wrong," James replied, causing Alfred to blush slightly. It wasn't often that his father gave out compliments. Looking past his father, his ego deflated a little as he stared at his lifeless brother, conflicted with emotions. Sad that something had happened to his brother, and angry that he felt this way. He knew his brother wasn't the harsh, uncaring persona he put on, but at the same time Harry had pushed him away whenever he'd tried to talk to him. So Alfred had gritted his teeth and bared it, respecting Professor Dumbledore too much to just give up.

At this point, his scar spiked with pain, drawing a pained gasp from him that made his father frown in concern before Alfred waved him away. Slowly, the pain faded to a throb, and Alfred lowered his hand away, as he sat in the seat that James offered to him whilst he took the beanbag. Resting his head against the back of the chair he looked down at his older brother, whose skin was pulled taut over his narrow face and whose body resembled a skeleton more than a person's. "Dad?" He asked, before drifting off into silence.

"Yes, Alfred?" James replied, laying a gentle hand on his youngest son's shoulder.

"What do you think he's dreaming of?" He asked, stared at his father as he frowned in thought. "I don't know, Son. I just hope he's dreaming of coming back to us."

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Harry was lost. Lost in a sea of blackness that allowed him glimpses of light before snatching it away as soon as he reached for it.

It hadn't taken long for his defences to crumble. It was more of a quiet whoosh than a loud crack as the structure caved in on itself, its razor sharp fragments narrowly missing him before falling downwards, lost beneath the tendrils that immediately swallowed any light that they produced. Some had barely missed Harry, who now floated without purpose, his hands jammed firmly over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the screaming banshees that took the form of his friends and family. Sobbing, he jumped as the noise echoed back a thousand fold and reducing it to a demonic laugh, sending stabs of pain through Harry's flickering form.

Opening his eyes as he sensed a presence in front of him, he immediately wished he hadn't. They were here again. Tom, with his ruptured face pulled back in a smile, revealing his rotten teeth. Sam, with an expression of hatred so vicious it felt like he'd been hit with a reducto. Amy, sneering down at him from what seemed to Harry to be a bottomless pit that separated him from her, and Alex, looking so betrayed that it brought tears to Harry's eyes.

Shutting his eyes, he feebly stuggled to wake himself from sleep, sobbing in frustration as he felt the invisible walls that trapped him hold strong. After a few moments, he became aware of a sound he hadn't heard in what felt like eternity. Laughing.

_"Harry Potter."_ The voice echoed through his bleak surroundings, ripping through the shades that stood over him and reducing them to dust with a force as powerful as any spell. _"How pathetic. All of this power, and you still can't escape your own mind."_ And with that, the voice laughed again, sending shivers up Harry's spine. _"Help me get out of here, then'"_ Harry retorted, swinging his head around as he tried to locate the location of the voice. It was no use; the voice seemed to be coming from all directions at once, sounding from virtually every recess of his fragmented mind until all that he could think of was what the voice was saying.

_"Help you?"_ The voice questioned, and Harry could sense its surprise. Of all of thr things he could have said, he knew that this was the last thing that this familiar voice expected. _"Yeah, help me,"_ he replied. _"You can help me to get out of here and repair my mind."_

_'"And why would I do that?"_ The voice giggled creepily. _"Why would I help an insect like you?"_ Hissing in pain as the laughter sent waves of pain through his fragile being, Harry felt the form he'd been forced to take when he was imprisoned in his mind begin to waver before re-establishing itself. _"If I wanted to, I could wipe you from existence, repair your mind, and take absolute control over your mind and body. So tell me...Why would I help you?"_ Harry was silent for a few moments, as he pondered how to answer this question. Unwillingly, he had to admit that the voice had a point. He'd be hard pressed to overcome this other presence at the best of times, and this was one of his worst.

Then it hit him.

_"If you could do that, why haven't you done it already?"_ He asked, before smiling triumphantly as the voice went silent. _"That's just it. You're connected to me somehow. If you destroy me, you'll die too,"_ he reasoned, pacing back and forth. When the voice laughed again, he didn't know whether to smile in satisfaction or grimance from the pain that erupted in his scar._ "Well done, Harry,"_ the voice purred, the voice sounding so much like him yet...Darker, more malevolent. _"You have forgotten one thing, however."_

_"And what's that?"_ He asked, frowning.

_"Just because I can't destroy you, it doesn't mean that I can't keep you trapped here forever. So tell me again,"_ it continued as Harry's eyes widened in horror. _"Why should I help you when you rejected me before?"_ Harry's silence was all the confirmation it needed as the cackling voice receded, allowing the shadows to once more drown the boy in the throes of nightmarish apparitions.

* * *

Alfred sat on the chair beside Harry's bed, clutching his now cold cup of tea. Tilting his head slightly, he watched his brother curiously as his breathing became more laboured and sweat formed on his brow. Taking the face cloth from the bucket of warm water by the bed, he gently wiped Harry's forehead clean, wetting his hair in case that helped.

It had taken a while, but he'd finally convinced Mum and Dad to go and eat and rest while he watched over Harry. Sighing, Alfred dumped the cloth back into the bucket, where the water soaked the floor with a loud splash. Turning to gaze out of the window, he shivered in the unusually chilly air of the room, before casting a mild heating charm on himself. This was the one kind of Summer day that he knew his brother loved, when the gentle wind caressed your face while the sun warmed you from head to toe. The water in the pool that had been built when he started Hogwarts glittered, sending ripples of light across the long yard, and the emerald grass gleaned like it was carved from emerald itself.

"Hey Harry," Alfred began, before looking at the door to make sure no one was there. "I don't know know if you can hear me," he continued, confident that no one was listening. "But it's July 30 today. Tomorrow's my - our - birthday." Turning to look at his elder brother's strained face, he looked down at his feet. "I know that I haven't been a good brother to you, and I am so sorry." Looking back up at his brother, he cleared his tight throat before trying again. "But it would mean the world to me - Mum and Dad too - if you were here for it." Without warning, tears began to drop onto Harry's face. "Please Harry," he sobbed openly, his warm hands grasping Harry's icy hands. "Please come back."

* * *

_"Alfred?"_ Harry gasped, as he heard his brother's words echo through the void inside of him. As his brother's voice receded, Harry felt something warm inside of himself, burning like a fire had erupted inside of him. Closing his eyes, he willed the apparitions away with all of his might, sighing in relief as he felt their presence disappearing. Opening his eyes, he bellowed out a summoning for the voice, watching with mild surprise as it emerged, its crimson eyes glowing under messy black hair and he realised that it was the same being that had appeared to him before. _"What do you want?"_ Other Harry growled, glaring at Harry, who held his hands up in a placating gesture, bowing his head. _"You...Win,"_ Harry mumbled, staring at the ground. _"I want to make a deal…"_ As Harry explained what the deal was, the being smiled evilly, its grin sending chills down his spine. _'I can't trust him,"_ Harry thought to himself. _"But if I want to get out of here, the only way is to make a deal with the Devil."_ If he was honest, he couldn't tell whether he was being literal or not. When the other Harry held out its hand, Harry stared at it for a few moments before gingerly taking it in his own hand and giving it a quick shake, sealing the deal.

* * *

Alfred lay with his head resting against Harry's arm, closing his eyes in exhaustion and grief as the rosy sunlight gently caressed his face, heralding the start of a new day, **his **day. Suddenly, he felt it; a movement. Lifting his head up, he looked down at Harry's hand, which was clenching and unclenching. Watching in wonder as his brother's eyes opened, he smiled in joy.

"Harry!" He exclaimed, smiling.

"Hey Alfred," Harry replied, looking up at his younger brother, who dashed towards the door. Sticking his head out, he bellowed," Mum! Dad! Harry's awake!" At the top of his voice. Turning back to his brother, for a moment he thought he saw a flicker or crimson in his brother's green eyes before it vanished. Alfred dismissed it as a trick of the light, though he couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling it gave him. With a burst of anger, he quenched it. 'All that matters is that my brother is back,' he thought.

* * *

**And that's it! Please review and let me know what you thought. I'm slowing the story down a bit to expand on James, Lily, and Alfred's characters.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Cheerio!**


	25. Chapter 25: Birthday cheer

Chapter 25: Birthday cheer

Harry slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, his weakened muscles trembling with the strain. Swaying, he would have fallen back onto the bed had it not been for the cushion that Alfred placed behind him, supporting his weight. Hearing running footsteps, he turned towards to the door, only for his curious gaze to harden as he glared at them, his steely stare causing them to lower their eyes in shame.

"Get out," he croaked, his voice weak and quiet. Lily looked up, and Harry coldly noted the tears rippling in her eyes.

"Harry-" She started towards him, before he pulled back as much as he could.

"Just-Just go. I don't want-just go," he stumbled, his painful throat feeling as though a claw was being run up and down the length of it.

"Harry, we're so sor-" But James never got to finish, as Harry looked straight at žhim - no, **through** him. Staring at his son's burning eyes, so full of hatred, all directed at him and Lily.

"I SAID GET OUT!" He yelled, the very air that surrounded them shaking with the force of his words as the door behind them slammed shut with the sound of an explosion.

For a few seconds, there was only a shocked silence. Then, Lily turned and ran out of the door, tears openly streaming down her pale cheeks. Torn, James didn't know what to do, until he took another look at Harry's hate-filled eyes and saw a hint of crimson flickering there. Whether it was real or not he couldn't say, for at that moment he turned and ran after Lily.

During all of this Alfred stood motionless next to Harry's bed, not sure what to do. Harry finally turned towards him, his angry eyes dimmed somewhat. "What?" He asked, his eyes flaring slightly.

"Nothing, Harry," he replied quickly, suppressing the fear that seized his body. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, the top of his year, the only one to defeat Voldemort. Why should he fear his own brother over the most powerful dark wizard of all time?

Harry turned away from him, his muscles tensing. It took Alfred a few seconds to work out what he was doing, but by then it was too late. Harry lifted himself from the bed onto his feet, only for his legs to crumple like paper beneath him, flooring him before he could even yell in surprise. "You've been in a coma for a long time, Harry," Alfred explained, choosing his words carefully as he heaved his brother back onto the bed. Lifting his wand, he conjured two human-sized sticks for his brother to lean on, which he took with a nod of thanks.

Grunting, Harry pulled himself up and leant heavily on his crutches, breathing like he'd just run a marathon. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself forwards, sweat running down his face in waves and his breath coming in gasps. His brother hovered beside him, watching him as he pushed open the door of his room, moving over to the bedside cabinet where his wand lay. Grasping it between his fingers, he felt its reassuring warmth run through him, returning a small amount of his strength, enough for his grip on the crutches relax.

Turning to face his brother, Harry frowned in confusion. "What day is it?" He asked.

"Sunday," Alfred answered, shifting his weight. "30th July, my - **our** birthday," he continued, joining his brother as he looked out of the window. "'Our birthday'?" Harry chuckled darkly. "Your parents have never treated me like a son."

Alfred didn't answer, staring out at the trees that stood at the end of the road. "I'm not going to argue with you," he finally said as he walked towards the door. "By the way, there's some stuff at the end of your bed for you." Frowning, Harry turned to ask what he meant, but Alfred was already gone. Sighing, he hopped over to his bed, landing heavily next to a small pile of gifts. Pulling the nearest one to him, he saw that it was from Amy. Pulling at the wrapping, he neatly grabbed a card as it fell towards the ground. Running his hand over its smooth velvety surface, he pulled it open, his smile growing as he read:

Harry,

Happy Birthday. I hope your mum and dad aren't being too much of a pain in the arse.

I don't know why you avoided us at the end of the year. I know that people were looking at you weirdly, but you didn't need to leave so soon after...Tom" - Harry's grip on the letter tightened.

"Things have been pretty hectic since you left. For some reason, Dumbledore gave you a hundred points. Said something along the lines of "impressive fortitude." No idea what he means, but I'm guessing it's the reason why you left early.

"Look, I know that you don't want to tell us everything," the letter continued. "And I'm okay with that. We're your friends, we'll always be there for you, whether you want us to be or not.

"With love,

Amy."

Folding the letter neatly, he placed it carefully on the cabinet, before lifting the parcel in his hands. Pausing as he began to open it, he placed his palms over the top of the wrapping, sending a weak pulse through it and splitting the paper open. Pulling apart what was left, he gently cradled the discus shaped object in his hands, turning it this way and that as he tried to understand what it was. Putting it aside for later, he lifted the second package, pulling apart the wrapping to reveal a small box. Lifting it, he gingerly took off the lid, before he smiled at the contents of the box.

It was a wand holster. Running his hand over the silky smooth surface that could only be leather, he noticed tiny runes along its length that he didn't even recognise, let aloneunderstand. Realising that this wand holster must have cost a fortune, he hastily picked up the letter attached, his eyes sliding from left to right as he read its brief contents:

"Harry,

Happy birthday. We wanted to get you something special for your birthday, so we thought we'd save up for this. I know you probably won't like this, but your brother paid most of the price. Sam wanted to get you books, but I told her you'd rather set yourself on fire than read another book.

We're all meeting in Diagon Alley on 23rd August, if you want to come.

Alex and Sam.

Placing the wand holster and the leaflet on the cabinet beside Amy's gift, he noticed that there were only 2 presents left. Pulling the smallest one to him, he shook it gently, puzzled by its rounded shape. Unwrapping it, he pulled a tiny emerald coloured stone from its packaging. Holding it in his palm, he was struck with a blinding headache, which went as quickly as it came. Opening his eyes, Harry felt his mind feel clearer - sharper - than it had in weeks. Lifting the attached letter, he briefly glanced over the contents:

"Dear Harry,

Your parents informed me of what happened to you and I wanted to express my most sincere apologies. Severus never should have gone through with that horrific invasion of your mind. Rest assured that Severus will be punished for this.

With this letter I've attached a mind stone. It won't be able to repair your mind, but it will alleviate some of the symptoms you would otherwise have had to suffer.

All the best,

Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore.

P.S: I have suspended your lessons for a while in order for you to recover as much as you can. I will send an owl in a few weeks to let you know when the next lesson will take place."

Moving Dumbledore's gift onto the cabinet, he picked up the final present, its surface moving as his hands pushed gently upon the wrapping. Pulling apart the wrapping, he pulled silky cloak from its packaging. Lying it across his lap, he yelled in surprise as his legs vanished, as though he hadn't been born with any. Tearing the cloak off of them, he exhaled in relief as his legs came back into view. Standing and crossing to the mirror on the far wall, he gingerly wrapped the cloak around himself, so that everything lower than his head was covered, before gaping like an idiot as his head appeared to be bothering in midair. Hesitating, he squashed his fear and threw the cloak over him so nothing could be seen. Smiling in delight, he folded the cloak and placed it neatly at the bottom of his presents, so that no one could see it. Stumbling back to his bed, he pulled the letter to him:

"Harry,

I know that you can never forgive us for what we've done, but please don't blame your father. I was the one who asked Snape to do what he did. Your father stopped him when he realised what had happened. Speaking of your father, this is an invisibility cloak. He used it all of the time at Hogwarts and we thought that you might like it.

I know that you will never trust us again, but know that I love you more than life itself. and so does your Father.

With love,

Your Mother."

Tossing the letter aside, he stared at his crutches, suppressing the urge to just reach out and grab them. Raising his hands, he commanded the crutches to fly towards him.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, he raised his hands again, again commanding them to fly towards him, but this time with greater ferocity. Rubbing his throbbing forehead frustratingly, he thrust his hands out in front of him, feeling his magic flow through his fingers. At once, the crutches sailed towards him, who clasped them tightly. Shuddering at the thought of his magic being weakened, even temporarily, he raised himself to his feet, puffing like an old man as he tried to cross the room to get changed.

_'Enough moping,'_ he thought to himself as he pulled out a fresh set of clothes. _'I have things to do.'_

* * *

"Thanks for seeing me, Padfoot," James said to his oldest friend, who leaned back in his chair looking arrogant and careless, yet James knew better. Sirius took his position as Head Auror seriously, and James knew how much of a responsibility it was, to the point that the two friends only saw each other every few months. In fact, James had only managed to get to see him by booking an appointment.

"Prongs, you're a welcome sight," Sirius grinned wearily, pushing up his drooping fringe with a hand whilst his other pushed some documents - "classified," Sirius explained with a wink that James couldn't help but smile at - to the side as he leaned forwards. "How are the kids?"

"Pretty good. You should come and see them sometime. It's been...What? 8 years since you've seem them," James let a touch of disapproval loose in his voice, causing his friend to wince and look guilty. "Actually, it's the boys that are the reason why I'm here," he continued, to which his friend simply raised his eyebrows. Taking a deep breath, James told his best friend everything, from Alfred going to Hogwarts to Harry being mentally tortured by Snape. As the story went on, Sirius' smile disappeared and he began to frown. By the time James had finished talking, Sirius looked outraged. "You let Snivellus use legilimency on your own _son_?" Sirius repeated, his voice having risen so loud that James had to hurriedly shush him. "We had no choice, Sirius!" James defended himself, though he knew that there was no defending what he let happen. "That's no excuse, James! If you wanted answers, you should have waited until he trusted you more and then asked!" Covering his face with his hands, James tried to hold back tears of regret. Removing his hands when he could feel the tears vanish and readjusting his glasses, he looked at Sirius, whose face softened as his realised the turmoil his friend felt.

"Why would you tell me, of all people?" Sirius asked, confused. "I know we're friends, Prongs, but couldn't you tell someone else who could help? Dumbledore, for instance?" Shaking his head, James raised his eyes to meet Sirius', his eyes expressing his amusement, "But you _can _help Sirius," James told him. "Right now, Harry is alone and feels betrayed. He needs someone who he can feel close to."

"And who would that be?" Sirius asked, looking blank. Then it dawned on him. "But you said it yourself, Prongs. He hasn't seen me for years. Why would he trust me?"

"Because we haven't seen you for a long time either," James replied, smiling slightly. "Lily and I've already destroyed any trust he had in us, and he's never liked Alfred. Who would be better than you? Please, Sirius," he added, as he saw his friend was close to coming around. "I'm not expecting a miracle. Just come to see him occasionally and speak to him. Make him laugh. You've always been good at that." Sighing, Sirius threw his hands up in surrender, as James grinned triumphantly. "I'll do my best, but don't hold your breath. I was planning to drop by today, anyway," he sighed.

"Again!" Alfred thrust his wand out in front of him, his stunning spell interrupting his father's disarming charm. Diving to the side, he felt a sudden discharge of magic from James as his tickling hex bounced off of Alfred's shield. Rolling as he landed, he shot off 3 spells - a disarming, a stunner and a petrificus totalus - in quick succession at his smirking father, who conjured a golden shield to absorb the attacks.

"You're leaving your right side open, Alfred," James panted, sending a disabling hex at Alfred, who barely dodged it. "Your actions are too predictable," he continued as he fired another disabling spell at Alfred, who took the force of it on his arm. Instantly, he lost all feeling in his arm, resulting in it swinging limply by his side. Growling, he pointed his wand at the floor. Immediately, a wave of vines shot out of the ground, two of which seized his surprised father with a yelp, leaving him hanging by his arms. As he fired a stunner, James smirked as his son fell into his trap. Flexing the fingers on his wandless hand, he triggered the magical tripwire he'd placed when he'd distracted Alfred with his first attack, sending his son flying up into the air whilst his stunner crashed into James' shield. As the upside down Alfred's concentration faltered, the vines instantly crumbled into dust, allowing James to fall nimbly onto his feet.

"Do you give up?" James smirked, twirling his wand idly between his fingers as he plucked Alfred's wand from his hands.

"Yes, now let me down!" Grinning evilly, James released the spell, causing Alfred to fall face-first onto the floor. Grasping James' outstretched hand, Alfred pulled himself to his feet, shaking his head slightly as he slipped his wand back into his pocket. "I almost had you that time," Alfred pouted.

"Almost, and only because you surprised me," James replied, as he looked up at the viewing gallery to see Harry watching them, a calculating look on his face. Seeing his father staring at him, Harry's face became as hard as stone. Unable to meet his eldest son's eyes, James retreated out of the door, all elation from his sparring match gone. '_Sirius, where are you?'_

Alfred finished casting the cleansing charms on his arm, sighing in relief as feeling returned to it. Holding his fingers up to his face, he felt a faint presence approaching him from the door his James had just left through. Turning, he raised his eyebrows in surprise at his heaving brother, who stood without his crutches, his brow soaked in sweat. "Merlin, Harry! He exclaimed. "You were in a coma until this morning. Where the Hell are your crutches?"

"What were you training for?" Harry asked, blatantly ignoring Alfred's question.

"There's a tournament at Hogwarts next year," Alfred explained briefly. "Loads of students compete. It only happens every few years."

"How do you enter?" Harry asked, as Alfred's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know so much? It's not like you can compete." Harry's eyes narrowed in response. "In that case, you won't mind telling me how to enter." Sighing, Alfred relented. "You have to talk to your house's tournament team captain and they'll give you a trial. If you beat one of their people, you take their place." Nodding in thanks, Harry turned towards the door, limping away as Alfred watched his receding back. '_Brother or not, this is __**my**_ _chance for glory,'_ Alfred thought to himself, his fingers clenching_. 'No one is going to take that away from me.'_

Back in his room, Harry sat on his bed, gazing into empty space as he mulled over this new information. '_Entering this tournament and doing well is a good way to earn allies,'_ he reasoned. '_But I'll have to be careful. If I win too easily, it'll look suspicious.'_ Inhaling sharply, he allowed his magic to flow through him, strengthening his frail body. Gingerly lifting himself until he stood on his own two feet, he felt the magic like invisible casts, supporting his legs without stopping their healing. Slowly crossing to the centre of the room, he lowered himself to the floor, closing his eyes and crossing his legs as he began to look deep for his magic. As he sunk deep into himself, his form grew rigid upon the floor as a gentle glow spread through his body.

It seemed like hours later when the glow around Harry finally faded, just as his father approached the room. "Harry? There's someone here to see you," James called softly from the door, watching his son relax and turn around before staring at him strangely, as if he didn't recognise him. "Harry, are you alright?" Smiling, Harry met his father's concerned eyes.

"Never better," he answered, a flash of crimson covering his eyes for a few seconds as he made his way downstairs, an eerily satisfied smirk tugging slightly at his lips.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Next chapter will be about Sirius and Harry, along with some other stuff. I was going to put it in this one, but I wanted to get this done for Christmas, hence the abrupt ending. **

**Have a great Christmas and drop a review if you feel like it. Good or bad, it means a lot.**

**Cheerio!**


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